John and Cameron Write a Porno
by phantomwriter05
Summary: A year after saving the world Cameron Baum takes a unique step to better understand this "Glitch" in her programming.
1. Chapter 1

**The Idea**

On a Los Angeles nature trail a woman was jogging with a stroller, her IPod blaring Lady Gaga's "Just dance" as she pumped her legs. Inside the stroller, a baby girl slept peacefully, the sun net blocking the glare.

She stopped for a moment and caught her breath. The menu to her playlist clicked as she switched to something less active to slow her pulse down. Bobbing her head to the new song she walked around and checked on her precious bundle. The little blond haired, green eyed beauty was smiling in her sleep.

The woman grinned, unplugging an ear bud from her headphones. The young mother brushed the baby girl's moistened bangs out of her face.

"Just down to the hot dog stand and we'll go back home Juju bean." She promised the sleeping baby, kissing her damp forehead.

Walking back to the stroller she wrapped her fingers around the handles and was about to start her last cardio rotation when all of the sudden the bushes separating the path from the woods started to rustle with the coming feet of a large group of people.

With a suspicious flick to her right, the young woman squinted into the tree line. Slow and steadily the feeling around the area started to change slowly.

Then without a warning she was surrounded by much commotion.

The air was electric and filled with the sound of battle. The war cries and shouts of curses carried on the warm wind. The thumping of armor and weapons clanked and clattered in mass across the serene setting that was peaceful only minutes ago. The war and brutality had started on the other side of the park and shifting across the area.

Men and woman clothed in chainmail and light armor littered the nature trail. Some were garbed in long robes and chanted around the violence, Pointing their wooden staffs and hands at others.

"For honor!"

"Lyanna!"

The fighters shouted the names they wished to fight for as their weapons clashed with each hack and smash. The goals for their nation realized through barbaric total war were no man or woman would be left alive in the pursuit of glory and fame of their combat prowess.

The woman screamed out of fright and ran away with the stroller at the mismatch of medieval dressed people.

Amongst the melee of the costumed people, two broke from the brawl and fled from the fighting.

The blond haired and blue eyed boy was no more than twelve and was dressed in green tights and a brown doublet with a flaming sword patch over his heart.

Next to him was a girl of seventeen. She had long curled brunet hair and golden flecked mocha eyes. She wore a tight leather bustier and leather skirt that fit her tight and toned body like a glove. Blue war paint streaked on her smooth cheeks and a flaming sword was painted over her taught stomach.

"Over here …"

The girl's voice was stoic and commanded with a sense of presence that no one could deny she didn't know what she was doing. The boy ran behind her, they jumped into some brush away from the fighting. There were a mass of people in red and gold surcoats and doublets striking down the last of the people in blue with flaming broadswords somewhere on their bodies.

"What are we to do gentle, ser?" The boy asked with a strange broken English accent.

The girl squinted at the massacre. "Keep your wits about you brave squire …" She advised gently touching his shoulder.

The boy nodded and sucked in some of his nervousness in a breath and let it out. Both turned back to the battle to find the group of red and gold enemy's surrounding a portly man on his knees. Both of his hands were behind him and he seemed to be acting as if he was somehow horribly wounded.

"Thou rouges and cures!" The fat man called to the laughing group of people. "You cut down my good men and maidens in this heinous betrayal!" The man was dressed like a knight and acted as if he was having hard time breathing, though he seemed completely uninjured.

Amongst the group of red and sweaty people standing around the knight a large homely woman walked up from the crowd. She was big of shoulder, broad of chest, and thighs of a softball player. She had a host of freckles on her flat face.

A nervous sweat leaked down the blond boy's face as he watched on, turning back to his knight who watched emotionlessly with a frown.

"Now my Lord Beric … you will reveal the location of Ser Cameron and her squire Egg!" The large woman announced aloud her powerful voice echoing through the trees around the nature trail.

The boy moved to engage but he was pulled back by his mistress. "But we must save lord Beric's life, Ser!" He whispered desperately. The beauty shook her head with an intense glare.

"It's what they want … we must not give into their trap. We are all that is left, we must bide are time if we are to win the day, egg." The look in her eyes made the boy nod.

Back on the trail the man panted with a groan. "May the gods of Thodden cast you to the pits of 3,000 rapes!" He yelled. "You will never lay your hands on sweet Cam …"

"Quiet you!" An Asian kid kicked the man in the ribs.

"OW!" The man called out in a high pitched whine that didn't quite fit with the condition he would have people believe.

"_Sorry Barry …" _The boy whispered.

"SWORD!" The muscular girl roared to her companions.

The people made their way for an eleven year old girl lugging a large heavy looking great sword. The Squire tensed and the girl lifted an eyebrow at the size of it.

"You will tell me where the she devil Cameron is, worm, or I will give you the kiss of death!" The monster of a female warned the fat man.

The larger knight hacked to spit in her direction but ended up coughing on the motion. "I'd rather die a thousand deaths, than betray my sister in arms!" He made out through coughs.

"Granted …" The broad female knight replied sinisterly drawing the great sword from its scabbard.

The blond squire touched Cameron's arm "Ser" He hitched. Yet the teenage girl did not flinch.

"May the father of father's judge me justly!" The fat knight shouted.

The large woman brought the sword high in the air effortlessly.

"Ummm … hey."

A tall man wandered onto the path from the woods. He had brown spiked hair, a lock of which fell limply over his forehead. His hardened green eyes looked a bit amused, while he scratched his designer stubble.

All in the group of knights and warriors stopped and looked at the man in a black plain tee and jeans. They glared suspiciously.

The man looked at all of them and cleared his throat. "Yeah … hey I was wondering if any of you know where I can find Cameron?" he asked sucking on a straw from a drive through soda cup.

Everyone looked at everyone else, then back at the tall man with a confused scowls.

He spared a moment of observation at their clothing. "Cameron Baum? She's about 5'6, brown hair and eyes … painted stomach … anybody?" He gestured to them.

There was an awkward pause amongst the crowd of people and the man as they watched their feet and scratched their heads.

Finally the fat knight looked around and cleared his throat loudly.

"AHH … damn your craven tricks, Ser!" He called to the softball built girl. "You wish to trick me into giving, Ser Cameron away with you apparition from another world!" He called with a jolly bandit voice. "Come do your worst, Demon, I will not betray my dear friend and companion!" He replied gallantly.

The emerald eyed young man squinted in confusion at the rebuttal and "Huh" at him with a bite to his lower lip.

"Hmm … okay, well …" He looked back to the muscular girl still holding an enormous rubber great sword. "I can see that you guys are doing something. So if you see her, tell her that John is waiting for her at the hot dog stand." He announced awkwardly and nodded slowly, before starting to walk away.

"Not so fast!"

One of the team members called to John. The twenty something turned around with a lifted eyebrow at the stern voice that just wasn't doing the job it was supposed to.

"You might be a spy …" It was an eleven year old girl in aluminum half helm who walked toward him. John stifled a laugh at her with a strategic cough.

"Trust … trust me, I'm not a spy." He lifted an eyebrow. Patting her on the helmet, he began to walk away.

THUNK!

"AHH, fuck!" John hopped on one leg while clutching his hamstring. "What the hell!" He called at her.

"My lord!" A boy with glasses knelt in front of the muscular woman.

The softball pitcher snarled ill tempered. "Speak" She tilted her head.

He lowered his. "If he is searching for Ser Cameron, than perchance he might be of use to us in daring the devil maiden and her squire out in the open." He spoke quickly.

The woman observed him for a moment in thought. With a swift push she kicked him over and stepped around his body.

"You, peasant!" She called to John who was hobbling on his foot trying to get the feeling back from the rubber sword strike.

"What is the nature of your relationship to the wench Cameron?" She asked powerfully.

The young man screwed up his face. "If I had a dollar for the amount of times I'm asked that …"

THRACK!

"Goddamn you to hell!"

The little girl glared at the curse sent her way after striking John in the arm. "Ser Georgiana asked you a question, commoner!" The squire screamed at him.

"Why are you yelling at me?"

THRACK!

"AHH, stop it!"

"Answer the question!"

"We live together … we're freakin roommates, Christ almighty." He called when the girl lifted her rubber sword to hit him once more.

The Ser Georgiana squinted at him. "So you're valuable to this maiden." She rasped.

John shook his arm to get the feeling back. "Yeah, I mean if she likes having water and electricity in our apartment … AH AH!" John pointed to the little girl, raising his voice when she looked like she was going to hit him again.

The large knight pointed her great sword at John. "Then I claim you as captive and leave you the right to ransom!" She announced to all around her.

Like a band of pirates they cheered and laughed at the mild victory they won.

John looked completely unimpressed. "Seriously? Can't I like give you a twenty and we call it even?"

CRACK!

"Pain! … Lots of pain, little Debbie!" He chattered his teeth in promise to the squire.

A rubber axe spun from behind a bush and struck the boy with glasses in the back. Upon realizing what had struck him he launched into very melodramatic death scene. Finally after coughing violently he fell to the ground with a thump.

"If it's I you seek than you have found me!"

Cameron walked stiffly out of the bushes with a sword in hand. She looked cold and dangerous. The girl was flipping the weapon as if it was an extension of her arm.

"You couldn't have come a little earlier?" John glared at the eleven year old who got into a fighting position.

The large knight took her sword and stuck it into the ground. "I knew thou couldn't possibly stand idly by while I hold your moon and stars hostage." She laughed to which all of the others did so as she looked side to side.

"You weren't actually holding me …"

THUMP!

"Satan's whore!"

Cameron approached menacingly, a cold look of murder in her eyes. "You kill my friends and brothers, and then you capture my moon and stars? This grievous insult will be dealt with by the only god that is certain …" The girl raised her weapon and pointed at the knight.

"Death"

The nature trail went silent for a moment before the three people who remind ran at Cameron full force weapons raised.

The first who arrived was manhandled by the girl and tossed behind her with one graceful and fluid movement. The second to arrive lifted her sword to bring it down on the girl's head. But before she could, Cameron brought her own blade across her stomach, side stepping the charge. With a spin she took the sword from her fallen opponent and in one smooth motion dropped to her knees avoiding an attempted decapitating blow from the last of the other team. The brown eyed teen crossed her twin swords and brought them across the big youth's beer belly.

Turning cold eyes in John's direction, the little eleven year old girl dropped her sword and raised her hands.

"Yield, yield, yield!" She called over and over backing away from the seventeen year old.

"Chicken shit …" John smirked at the girl while she fled from the scene.

But Just as Cameron was rising the big female lumbered on her before she could see her.

"Come die, Wench!"

From out of nowhere the blond boy jumped out of the bush and in front of Cameron.

"NOOO!"

The great blade caught him on the shoulder and across the length of his body. John watched with an impressed smile when the boy hit the ground and despite there not being a mark on him he vibrated and coughed as if he had actually been cut.

Cameron turned and jabbed her blades into the large knight's neck. The woman took the blades in hands as if they had really been stuck in her and fell to the floor.

Taking a slurp from his soda John walked over and watched as Cameron got to her knees and cradled Egg, her squire's body.

"Did I earn my … my spurs, SSS … Ser?"

"You did, gallant friend … you did." Cameron nodded stroking his hair.

"Really?" John snorted.

Cameron turned and gave him an icy look. In response the young man lifted his hands and backed away slowly.

"Ser … Ser will you tell my true love that … that …"

"What is it, egg?"

"That I will wait for her."

Suddenly the boy went limp in Cameron's arms and he looked off into space.

"I will … I will indeed." She closed his eyes in tears.

There was a silence that took ahold of the community nature trail littered with the bodies of dead LARPs. A couple taking a walk took a moment to observe the scene of Cameron holding her squire.

"How's it going?" John lifted his drink in salute to them.

They both shook their head at him disapprovingly and continued onward.

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

In unison, the sound of twenty watch alarms went off at once. Suddenly all those who had been claimed by death rose from their spots and stretched or yawned. There was a moderate mummer of conversation as the costumed people began trudging back the way they came.

"That was awesome …!" The kid that had been dying in Cameron's arms was now wide awake and on his knees next to Cameron.

"Yes …" She acknowledged with a nod. "You fought well today." She placed a hand on his shoulder.

The boy got to his feet excitedly. "I can't believe how outnumbered we were and how you took them out, Conan style. I swear Cameron … you're the best sword here." He punched the air excitedly.

The girl leveled him with a tilt of her head. "I would be dead if you hadn't jumped in the way, the victory belongs to you as well." She explained.

The boy had a look that said that had just won a metal. He ran up and gave her a hug before breaking apart quickly. He was blushing hard for a moment until he giggled like an idiot and ran off as fast as he could.

There was a pause while she watched him. John came walking up next to her sipping his soda, sharing the view.

"I believe he just realized that he wants to copulate with me …" She turned to John blankly.

He snorted. "Can you blame him?" He bumped her shoulder looking at her tight leather outfit.

She looked down at her body and back at John. "What about it …?" She asked innocently.

He gave her a smirk that said that he wasn't going to be pulled into her games. "You notice how you're the only one dressed like a Xena out here?" He widened his eyes as he took another gulp.

"It's an effective strategy …" She claimed hiding the ghost of a devious smirk.

* * *

><p>"So why LARPing?"<p>

The spoils of a victorious LARP tournament were a fifteen dollar prize gift certificate to "Eddie's Slices and Ices" on the Santa Monica Pier. With evening rolling around, Cameron decided that she would spring for Dinner for her and John.

Both were standing in line as couples waited on the staff who took orders in the small trailer and sitting area. The cyborg had noticed that no one seemed to bat an eye at her costume. It seemed to be an interesting perk to living in L.A.

She turned, watching John as he looked her in the eye.

"Sarah said that I needed a hobby, since we got back from the future and I wasn't going anywhere since John Henry has gone online." She tightened her cheek. "She said … _"Hairy women didn't burn their bra's so that you could just sit around the apartment and wait for John to come back home from class, girlie."_"

John laughed at her impression of Sarah as she quoted her surrogate mother from their phone conversation.

Cameron tilted her head with a smile at his infectious laugh. "I don't think she and Derek likes us living together without their supervision." The girl stated as the line moved.

The former resistance officer sighed. "Yeah well, we're in college now … They're going to have to get over it someday." He replied in an uncompromising voice that had shut down any protest Sarah Connor and Derek Reese might have had of John and Cameron sharing an apartment several years ago.

"Community College …" She corrected.

"Whatever … the point is we needed to get out on our own for a little bit." He sighed at her.

"You were in the future for five years on your own …"

"Cam"

Whenever he called her that with a sigh she knew that meant that she was "Taking a rabbit trail" and that she was missing his point.

"Sorry." She apologized.

As the line moved closer he gave her a lopsided grin which was a tell-tale sign that she annoyed the living hell out of him sometimes but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"How bout you grab us a table?" He motioned her toward the umbrella shaded white tables.

It was a small moment but one which started happening more frequently since they returned from the future. It was something in their gaze that held the other; it was awkward because it made the other feel hesitation almost like when jumping off a moving train. It intrigued Cameron as to what would happen if they ever jumped off one day.

"Okay" she nodded breaking eye contact.

When she moved away she heard John audibly shake out of whatever it was about the young cyborg that was holding him in thrall.

Making her way toward the tables she paused a moment at the noise of electronica music buzzing close by. Frowning in thought she followed the sound to the entrance of a nearby pier. By the sea wall a woman was dressed in a shiny silver leotard, skull cap, and matching body paint.

Cameron observed the woman as she made stiff movement that didn't quite match the music. It took her a beat or two to comprehend just what she was doing.

When it occurred to the girl that the woman who was obviously a street performer was intimating a robot, the terminator oddly found herself touched.

"_Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."_

She walked over to the street performer and stood in front of her, watching what she could only label as loose interpretation of cybernetic movements.

"Excuse me …" She interrupted the performance.

The robot dressed woman turned stiffly and made a steam turbine sound with her mouth. She paused blankly facing Cameron making a hiss with her mouth.

The girl blinked. "Your motor function subroutine seemed to be damaged." She explained with a pleasant smile.

Once again the performer made a steam turbine noise as she turned her head. When she found the position she liked she hissed again.

"Do you not understand?" She tilted her head as well speaking pleasantly. "What I mean is that your joints are sticking too much, you are in need of maintenance?" She tried to clear up her original statement.

The fake machine looked down slowly making the same obnoxious sound as before and then back up as if mockingly scanning Cameron.

Hissing she looked Cameron straight in the eye.

"Me. Love. You. Long. Time."

The woman spoke with a cheesy and slow mechanical voice.

The cyborg tightened her cheek in confusion. "I do not understand."

Now making piston noises the woman jerked forward. "I. model. 69. Need. Your. Sex." She continued.

"Most cybernetic organisms don't require the need for human intimacy … you should restructure your infiltration techniques." She corrected the robot.

The robot stopped with a hiss and once again tilted her head. Then slowly she raised her hand in a closed fist. Then as if being cranked by a lever she lifted her middle finger till it was standing at attention for Cameron.

The girl frowned for a moment. She didn't understand why she was being so rude to her. In her mind every infiltrator needed help if they were going to blend in. Cameron wasn't sure where she would be if John hadn't been there to help her assimilate in 2007.

Then it hit her.

"You're mocking me." She stated.

"Aren't. You. Smart. He. He. He." The woman placed her hand on her stomach and made a fake mechanical belly laugh.

Cameron glared at the woman for a beat before reaching over and ripping off the silver skull cap on the woman's head and threw it down the dock.

Suddenly the machine broke character and the painted woman glared daggers at the real cyborg.

"Bitch!" She spat and chased after it.

She watched her go with a blink till John waltz up next to her with a basket of pizza slices and a flyer under it.

"Hey I thought you were going to get us a table?" He said.

Cameron squinted in the wind. "Something came up." She said vaguely.

John snorted at her answer, almost as if he didn't want to know. Cameron caught a aqua colored paper in his hand.

"What's that?" She asked taking it from him.

The young man shrugged as the two started walking down the sidewalk with the ocean to their right and the road to their left.

"They're looking for a "Tall, dark, and handsome" With a little bit of "Desperate to be noticed" for good measure." He chuckled as Cameron read.

She looked up at him. "Is it an acting job?" She asked innocently.

The soldier sighed miserably. "Can be …" He ripped off a piece of breadstick and handing it to her. Cameron usually didn't eat but when she was with John she had to or her best friend would feel guilty.

As she chewed on the bread she tilted her head at him expectedly. When he turned to look at her and saw her face he gave a loud snort.

"They're making a stag film, Cam."

She frowned a moment. "They're shooting an instructional video on how to hunt deer?" She asked.

He sighed good naturedly at her. "No … how do I put this?" he rubbed his stubble.

"How do you put it?"

Watching her, John groaned. "They're looking to cast a porno."

"Porno?"

Cameron felt bothered when she had to ask a string of questions like this. Ever since she was unsynced from John Henry she had lost some valuable knowledge from her database. So it seemed as if she had to relearn all of which she lost. She knew that these questions annoyed John some times.

"Yeah, you know when people film themselves having sex …" He said quietly.

She looked out to the setting sun across the water in thought. "But I thought people don't like other's to see them doing their private intercourse?" She asked.

"A lot of people don't , but … a lot of people like watching it." John sounded somewhat uncomfortable.

She looked puzzled. "Why would people do films if they're morally ambiguous?" She posed her question to the young man.

John sighed. "Well the truth is, the people tend to want to be noticed, or they need the money. A lot of people watch porn, so I'm sure they think that someone will notice them and they'll get a "legit" job in Hollywood." He shrugged as he ate.

There was a silence as both walked down the shoreline. In the distance a sailing boat glided by them.

"Is taking naked pictures of yourself, considered porno?" Cameron asked.

"If they're meant to get someone off, then I guess …"

"…"

"To stimulate sexual desire …"

"Oh, thank you for explaining."

John squinched at her. "Why do you want to know?" he asked carefully, knowing that asking his companion loaded questions was a lot like opening a Pandora's box of things he didn't need nor wanted to be informed of.

Cameron chewed emotionlessly. "Cause Riley once attempted to send you pictures of herself naked as well as provocative texts." She stated as they walked.

Grinning, the youth squinted in thought.

"I don't think I remember any "Sexting" from Riley … ever." He turned back to Cameron.

The cyborg didn't seem to share eye contact as they moved along the sidewalk.

"You wouldn't have, because I got to them first …" She admitted.

"Well … what happened to them?"

Cameron paused. "John, I have a confession to make." She turned to look at him.

He stopped and stared hard at the girl for a moment with a humorous smile.

"Cameron … Is this a story for Penthouse?" He asked somewhat nervously.

Looking him straight in the eye she didn't flinch.

"I redirected them …"

There was a silence between the two that was filled by the ocean and a passing ice cream truck.

"To where?" John shook his head.

"Sarah's phone."

For a beat there was complete silence. Then John burst out laughing at her.

"OMYGOD … You're … you're serious? Is that why …?"

"Sarah felt uncomfortable around Riley? Yes, that was one of the reasons." Cameron confirmed with the ghost of a satisfied smile on her lips.

"Did … did Riley and mom ever?"

"Work it out? No, Riley never knew I sent them to Sarah and Sarah never knew that they were meant for you." She confirmed as John coughed on some pizza.

It took a minute for John to get his breath back before he returned to normal, his face flushed, and his sides hurting.

When he got himself back under control he looked down at Cameron and shook his head.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side." He widened his eyes tossing an arm around her shoulder as they went on their way again.

It was quiet for most of their absent walk, not sure where they were going, just enjoying the journey together.

"Man …" John snorted. "Can you imagine how awkward it could've been if mom and Riley would have actually had a conversation about that?" He looked down at the cyborg tucked platonically at his side.

"It would probably be more awkward for Sarah than Riley." She admitted.

"Yeah? How's that?"

"Riley fantasied about Sarah."

John hacked at the pizza in his mouth out of complete surprise to which Cameron gave one hard smack helping him cough it out.

"What!"

Cameron squinted at John's reaction.

"Riley was a Lesbian …"

"How do you know!"

"I hacked and read her online journal. She often imagined what Sarah looked like naked, she also posted mock love letters to Jesse Flores."

John took a moment to let it all sink in, knowing the implications of this being true.

"Okay now you're just making stuff up." He defended his manhood.

"Am I?" Cameron turned her head just a touch, taking the pizza from his hand and biting into it.

Blinking, the cyborg strode of in front of him, taking the lead.

"You're joking about Riley being a lesbian, right?"

"…"

"Cameron?" He chased after her.

* * *

><p>The coast was alive with the cawing of sea birds and the distant horn of a large ship leaving the harbor as dusk settled on the Pacific Ocean. A gentle mix of purple leaked across the orange sky reflecting in the gentle slosh of low tide.<p>

Sitting on the large rocks near the shore line, John and Cameron spent the rest of their dinner in silence watching the sun set and feeling the wind whisper the coming of the cold wind of the Southern California night.

"Mom … she keeps riding me about what I'm going to do next, now that it's all settled."

John sighed staring out at the day fading around them, crumbling a napkin in his hand.

Cameron watched a small bird stuff its head into holes in search of crustacean to eat. "She's always had a type A personality, She doesn't feel comfortable without a goal." She turned to John next to her.

The young man shrugged. "I guess … but I just don't know what I'm supposed to tell her." He picked up a rock and looked at it. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to do with my life now." He shrugged, side throwing it at the water.

The rock plopped and skipped three times before losing momentum and sinking into the water. Cameron screwed up her face to humor him.

"What do you want to do?" She looked down where John's shoulder leaned on the side of her knee.

"I don't know … I've never had much of a choice till now."

She blinked. "What is it you want most out of this new life?"

Slowly as if nervously he met her gaze and lock eyes with her again. There was something in his haunted emerald gems that was different, something deep and longing.

"I don't know …" he said quietly as if he was in a church. The sudden flash in his gaze seemed to contradict his admission.

The cyborg watched her best and closest friend for another moment trying to decipher what this all meant, but before anything could happen he chuckled to himself disbelievingly and turned to look out over the bay with a shake of his head.

She tightened her cheek. It was there again, that emotion (if it could be called that.) She had felt it since she had met John all those years back in New Mexico. It was an attachment that went beyond the normal mission perimeters. Back then she found that in tight situations she could pull from it to encourage herself to complete tasks when it came to John. This knew found glitch in her programing even abled her to override her programing when it demanded the death of her former charge. She found it to be a great ally but hardly understood what it meant.

When she merged with John Henry even for that short period, The "glitch" became more defined since of all of John Henry's devolvement transferred to her. Now it consumed her most of the days and well into her long nights.

She wanted to ask John. The "glitch" and why it was only came up when she thought of him?

But strangely she had found it hard to put into words. One night when John was hard studying for midterms she sat on their couch and called an emotional call in help show on a soft rock radio station.

The supposed female doctor was nice, but replied that she couldn't help till Cameron found out for herself and was honest about it. However the talk jockey hung up on Cameron when she was asked where she got her medical degree, because posing riddles is hardly acceptable.

"_Brain surgeons don't require their patients to locate their tumors before surgery, do they?"_

But tonight there was something about the atmosphere and the smell of the night that seemed to prompt her to address it.

"John …"

"Hmmm"

She paused when the young man lifted his arm and without even thinking rested it lazily across her Thighs expecting her question.

It was that feeling again, like she was standing on a moving train, the scenery blazing before her. All her systems tell her it won't hurt her to jump and yet that "Glitch" was holding her back.

"What happens when you want to say something … or put something into words, but you can't?"

John arched his right eyebrow at her with interest. "Well …" He drew the word out as if to buy time for an answer. "Some people do it by actions." He shrugged.

"Like …"

"Like … art." He replied right on her heels with a shrug.

"Painting?"

"Sometimes"

The cyborg took time to consider if it was the proper way that she could express the swirl of inconsistencies in her mind.

"That doesn't seem tangible."

John snorted. "Okay then …"

"Anything else?"

"Poetry?"

"I tried that once …"

"Oh, yeah, I remember, English 2, Mr. Amedon's pre winter break poetry project."

"The Councilor gave me a heartfelt hug for twenty minutes and sent us home with an abused women's shelter pamphlet for Sarah."

John groaned as if the memory was going to give him a migraine. "Yeah and mom sat us down and gave a lecture on how much of the truth we're supposed to implement into our school work." He shook his head. "I've seen capital punishments more humane …" He chuckled with a sigh, laying his head on her lap playfully.

Cameron patted his head sympathetically.

Flicking down she saw the aqua flyer sitting underneath their dinner containers. Suddenly she had a thought.

"Could making a movie be an appropriate option?"

John lifted his head from her lap and gave a mock pensive face. "Yeah I guess, I mean sometimes people's interpretation of your script could ignite one's realization." He widened his eyes at her teasingly.

"Like a consult?"

"More like a change of prospective."

It seemed suitable and doable judging that every time she sat down to watch television and new movie trailer comes out, both Derek and Sarah made comments about how studio's were pulling blockbusters out their ass.

Maybe that was what she needed. If she could somehow put all her "Glitches" nuances into a project maybe she could better understand them coming from someone who was more experienced in emotional situations like an actor.

She would need a large audience so that even if her cast didn't understand what was going on, maybe someone out there had gone through what she was feeling and could connect with the material. Possibly even contact her for the answers she sought.

"_Like a Hallmark card"_

Her gaze and her thoughts came back to the flyer sitting idly nearby.

"Hey, Cam …"

"Yes" She broke away.

"Back at the LARP tourney those guys in red, they called me your "Moon and stars" what is that all about?" He asked.

She blinked. "It's a term for someone very close to you, someone you covet with all of your Gyiean life blood." She repeated.

He smirked at the LARP language.

"Was their interpretation right?"

Cameron tilted her head. "You risked yours and the lives of everyone on the planets to save me. You left your mother, timeline, and home because of me. No one has quite personified the definition like you have." She explained innocently.

John had a smile that seemed no one got from him but her. It was like peeling back layers and looking into his soul. She smiled faintly back at him, she couldn't fathom how she couldn't.

It would have been a perfect time to tell John what she has been trying to find the words for these last couple of years. But she couldn't seem to find what they were or what they meant.

He snorted a breathy chuckle and got up with a sigh. Cameron watched him as he stretched and gave one last look at the ocean and darkening bay. The lights off the marina twinkled in fading light of the day looking like a flurry of firefly's fluttering on the waves.

"Come on, Moon and Stars, let's go home." He offered her a hand up.

Smiling at the name she took it as he at least pretended that she need help up. However when she was on her feet he didn't let go of her hand.

She waited on him to be the first to release, she could sense that his heart rate elevated as they're hands were grasped. But he didn't let go.

"Come on …" His face was stoic with a smile for her, despite what she knew what was going on inside him.

He tugged her arm lightly motioning his head back to the car. Hiking over rocks they didn't break their grasp.

When they threw away their trash, John didn't seem to notice that the flyer wasn't amongst it.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes <strong>

_**So this story is a bit of a turning point in my writing career in this fandom. **_

_**You know in the last several months I've been accused of having mental problems by Miahoneydo just because my stories have took some dark turns. I've had M1919 talk some mess here and there. **_

_**And I started to get a temper as it all piled on over the months. I just really just started to loath the people that once claimed to be fans of the show. **_

_**Several days ago I got banned from the blue wiki on trumped up charges that were completely false. Of course I complained and tried to get the main administrator to see the injustice of it all. He could care less. **_

_**So I went and talked to some old friends, Meanoldmoe and SarahWannabe. **_

_**They gave me some very good advice, but it was something they didn't say that got me thinking. **_

_**When did loving this show become a choir and not fun? **_

_**Then it hit me. **_

_**What made me love writing for this fandom was that I had fun immersing myself in it and cared less about what the Miahoneydo's, m1919's, and RDO's of the fandoms thought of me and my opinions.**_

_**I love reviews don't get me wrong, but I stopped writing for me and started living and dying with other people's expectations. Stories like the beginning of" Because the Night" and "Purpose" Had very little reviewers but I was having fun writing them because I loved the material. "Phillips Anatomy" was what it was all about in the peak. **_

_**I want to have that feeling again, so this is what this story is all about. **_

_**In fact if you want the truth if you're a budding FF writer that's the key. In the times I've been in the Blue wiki I've seen so many people drop posts like "I think I'm going to write something tonight." Or "Have you written anything yet?" **_

_**Anyone can write a story, but if you're doing it because other people pressure you to or because everyone else is. **_

_**It won't be as good. **_

_**So if you write something, anything, let expectations go. Don't worry about what someone else will think of it. Write what you want when you want. **_

_**Just have fun with it. **_

_**And if you don't get reviews who gives a fuck? You wrote the story you want to read that someone else couldn't or wouldn't write.**_

_**Don't be discouraged by flames … you've put yourself out there which takes more courage than the hater who's to chicken shit to writing anything. **_

_**Just dropping some knowledge from an old pro …**_

_**So if you've read all of this and are offended for the people I mentioned in the "Sunday sermon" or you don't like what you've read. Even if you laugh at it or say "He's lost his nut." **_

_**I don't care, I'm just letting people know where I was and where I'm heading. **_

_**Get on or off the train. **_

_**R&R as always (The story that is! any review of the Author's Notes will be deleted, that's what PMs are for). **_


	2. The writing Process

_**So, if anyone was thinking that I wrote that first chapter as nothing more than to call out haters I was sick of dealing with that isn't the case … It's just that Funny stories take time to write for me anyway. **_

_**This story to me is sort of distraction whenever I'm bored or feel lazy. *Shrug***_

**The Writing Process **

_Pornography or porn is the portrayal of explicit sexual subject matter for the purposes of sexual excitement and erotic satisfaction._

_Pornography may use any of a variety of media, ranging from books, magazines, postcards, photos, sculpture, drawing, painting, animation, sound recording, film, video, or video game. However, when sexual acts are performed for a live audience, by definition it is not pornography, as the term applies to the depiction of the act, rather than the act itself. Thus, portrayals such as sex shows and striptease are not classified as pornography._

It wasn't the normal everyday thing that one finds themself looking up on Wikipedia during a college lecture, but Cameron found that since she was already an expert at Shakespeare and the modern symbolism of his works she could tap out for a little bit.

She had been barrowing John's laptop, which the two shared when they took class early in the morning to early afternoon. It was a "Buddy system" Cameron recorded the entire lecture on her chip and John wrote the notes to things he needed to understand.

It also helped that she could surf the web, because as John stated after the first couple days.

"_You're a terror when you're bored, you know that?" _

She hardly called correcting professors and spell checking John's notes an act of terrorism. It only showed that she cared about the quality of his education. How will he succeed in life if his instructors don't take the material serious?

"_They work at a Community College, Cam. They don't take life seriously." _

It was hard to say one way or the other if Professor Pearson took his life seriously. He was small balding man with black framed glasses. He had tenure for English Lit and yet he hardly understood what he was saying. His lectures were full of inconsistencies that made no sense to Cameron. She was of the opinion that he makes things up.

Back tracking from the definition of porn, she flicked through the links on websites showcasing strange words she had never seen before. The cyborg frowned at all the information in front of her. Where was she supposed to start?

Tightening her cheek she turned to John who was in the middle of listening intently to the professor as he went on about "Romeo & Juliet" and the subtext of love and society. It made her pause for a moment.

John and her friendship seemed to fit in the context of what the professor was talking about. It took Sarah and Derek a lot of time to warm up to Cameron based on who she was and where she came from. While on the other side her father didn't like John or his family based on who he was and where he came from, but unlike John's family, her family would never accept John and because of it … she would forever be a cast out.

A small breeze broke her out of her musings and John was giving her a lopsided grin. Whenever she would be lost in processing information or staring off into space, John would lightly blow on her hair to get her attention. She smiled back at him and went back to the computer.

As time winded down she noticed a picture in the top right of her screen. She glared at the small thumbnail and moved to click on it. Suddenly a large version of two animated characters appeared on the screen. The action they were engaged in seemed to confuse her, she tilted her head at the screen trying to get a better view at what it was she was exactly looking at.

"Oh …!"

Cameron turned at the sound of a high pitched squeal. Behind her a girl with heavy eyeliner and all dressed in black had her hoody sleeves buried in her face, compressing laughter. The cyborg glared in confusion and turned back to her screen, before going back to the young woman who was coughing because she was laughing so hard. It truly was a strange reaction. She studied the screen truly perplexed by what was sitting in front of her and why it was amusing.

John bumped her forearm a little as he flipped his page, writing down notes for the lecture in his journal. Cameron watched him a moment tightening her face going to the screen, then back to John. Gently she rubbed his arm for attention.

The rugged young man let out a grunt of acknowledgement. Turning her chair, the girl slid the computer screen so he could see it perfectly. John finished what he was writing and turned to look at what she was showing him.

"HAH!"

John covered his face and turned his head away after letting out a loud high pitched laugh. His whole body shook and he leaned himself away from the screen as if to shield himself from it. Cameron glared at him, waiting for him to face her and tell her what it is she was looking at. But John refused to turn toward her and the screen.

At the board there were loud and obnoxious clicks, a clear sign of frustration from the professor. Slowly the small man sighed and tossed the chalk down and cleared his throat, cleaning his hands.

"I would ask … but I believe that I already know the answer to my question. So, tell me Mr. Connor and Ms. Phillips what is so interesting that you had to disturb another one of my lectures." The professor turned and gave both John and Cameron a stern look that made his entire body tight.

Cameron opened her mouth and was in the process of turning the screen toward him when John's hand shot out like a striking snake and shut the lid on the lap top before he could see anything. All the while his other hand never left his eyes, his entire body shook.

The professor was not impressed and clenched his jaw. "Tell me, Mr. Connor, what is it that is so funny you can't answer me?" he placed his hands behind his back.

"HA … Heheha!" John tried to speak, but wasn't able too between laughs.

Professor Person looked to be losing his temper. "Ms. Phillips maybe you might be able to enlighten the class on something we don't know …?" He turned to a confused looking cyborg that was innocently pushing at John's arm for an explanation, to which he was shaking his head at her. However, when she heard her name she looked to the professor and then to the class around her.

There was a snicker that went up from other students when she stood to speak. People always made fun of her when she was called on, because she always stood. She paused a moment in confusion at the expecting glances. Her problem was that she wasn't sure what was so funny about the picture.

"Something everyone else doesn't know, but me and John?"

"Yes, Ms. Phillips … something **we** don't know." He was getting short with her.

Cameron looked around at all the faces with mocking smiles, everyone believed that she was some sort of special needs student … a really beautiful special needs student, but retarded none the less. She turned back to Professor Pearson.

"You buy pay as you go phones so that you can call phone sex hotlines without your wife knowing about it …"

The entire class broke into laughter, one larger man with a "Doctor Who" t-shirt fell out of his chair because of it. Horrified the Professor looked around the room and then back at Cameron.

"You call in to Olivia as a regular, but Olivia isn't a woman, or a female at all, she's a thirty five year old man who lives with his religious mother, but is too scared to tell her he's gay … but on some subconscious level I believe you know that." She added with innocent sympathy as the room died around her.

The shiny crow faced Professor Pearson turned cherry red at the details of his private life flying out of the girl with such ease as if she was giving a fourth grade book report.

"Class … CLASS DISMISSED!" Person called over the heavy laughter. Despite the students enjoying what was clearly an embarrassing moment for their hard ass professor, it all was trumped by being let out early. Everyone quickly cleared away their things and exited, giving significant looks Person's way and chuckling.

As the room cleared out the professor looked so tight in the face he might actually implode. "Connor … a word!" His voice suddenly took a squeak to it.

John's cheeks were red as he sighed the same sigh at Cameron he reserved for her when she got them into a mess. Standing up, he was still smiling as he crossed behind her, placing a friendly hand on top of her head in sign of endearment.

Watching him walk down the stairs till he reached Pearson, the ballerina began packing her and John's things away. As she worked, the cyborg enhanced her audio receptors for a better listen at what was going on bellow.

"How did you come by that … that information"

"Oh, you know old Cammy, she's got her ways …"

"Like stalking me? You know Connor, the government thinks that you, your mother, and that freak over there are innocent of charges, but I don't … I think that all of you are criminals and this only proves it to me and the police when I tell them of this little incident!"

"Tell me, "Professor", if you really believe that, which I think you do. Would you say that with these people being, killers, terrorists, and all around dirty low down criminals … think it's wise to threaten me, Cam, and most of all my mom?"

" …"

"…"

"What do you want to make this little thing go away, Mr. Connor?"

"That's the spirit Pearson! Now, how bout for a start you show Cameron a little more respect in and outside the classroom."

"Fine …"

"Next, we get no lower than B pluses on all assignments, no matter how poorly we do."

"No, I can't do that …"

"Sure you can teach. I know you can, because Cameron is failing this class despite the fact that she completes all your assignments on time."

"Alright …"

"And finally I believe you've read our finals papers and think they were great."

"But it's not deadline yet."

"…"

"Alright … Alright! But I'm gonna need proof that they were written."

"Anyone asks just make up an excuse."

"Oh yeah, What excuse would that be?"

"I don't know? You lost them, you thought they were magnificent so you framed them … a cyborg ate them."

"A cyborg ate them?"

"Sure"

"A cyborg ate them?"

"Use it all the time."

"And people believe …"

The young ex-officer and stalky professor stopped their haggling over the blackmail when Cameron walked down the stairs with stiff yet poetic like grace and stopped in between them. She held the professors stare as she studied him with a tilt of her head.

Then without so much as hint of what she was going to do, the girl snatched the thin sheet of notebook paper the professor had his lecture notes on and crumbled it into a ball. Just as he was about to protest the action the girl opened her mouth and shoved it inside and methodically began to chew the paper ball.

* * *

><p>The classroom door closed with a slam after John and Cameron exited the room and into the white sterile like hallway of the school that was lined with outdated public service announcements that would make a teenage Sarah Connor role her eyes at how old they were.<p>

"Holy shit …!" John groaned and backed up into a wall near another classroom across from their literature class and rubbed his eyes with his palms tiredly. "Are you out of your mind?" He asked Cameron without looking at her.

She frowned in thought. "Everything seems to be functional in normal perimeters …" She replied hitching their shared rucksack.

"No, I mean … what were you doing showing that picture to me in the middle of class?" He half sighed, half chuckled at her.

"I didn't know what it was … was it something bad?" She asked innocently with a tilt of her head. Sometimes she made mistakes, she wasn't sure anymore now that John Henry leached her database what was socially acceptable.

"It was a pink "My Little Pony" giving a "Care Bear" a blow job on top of a rainbow. What part of that image screams school appropriate to you?" John laughed miserably at her and scrubbed his face.

"A Blow Job?" She frowned.

"Oral sex, Cam!"

She thought a moment, before it hit her. "Oh … so that blue thing in the pony's mouth was this Care Bear's Pen …"

"Yes" He answered her tiredly.

Cameron widened her eyes and nodded. "I'm sorry, John." She apologized. "It won't happen again." She promised.

"Good, cause …"

"AVENGE!"

The booming voice caused John to fall over as the man the voice belonged to loomed right in his blind spot. He was tall and somewhat robust, dressed in a milk white suit of armor with white flower rubbed all over his face and puffy beard.

John slapped the floor in frustration and struggled to his feet, helped by Cameron. "Goddamnit! Every time I'm out here, every time!" He yelled at the knight in white. But the man said nothing, just loomed in his spot, a white tattered bed sheet hung from his shoulders like a cloak.

Cameron restrained John's arm just in case. "He didn't mean anything by it, John. He just wanted to get his message out to you." She replied gently.

"Oh yeah that's easy for you to say!" He snapped. "He doesn't follow you around all day demanding that you avenge him …"

Kenneth Brawn was once considered one of the most premiere and revered stage actors in the past generation. There had never been a man in the theater business that could understand the characters inner thoughts and actions quiet like the man. He was a method acting genius, considered way before his time in the business. But eventually, over the years his process was no longer one of a kind and he began to fall to the wayside till finally it all went bad and the man snapped. He was sent to Pescadero after he convinced himself that he was the reincarnation of Little Orphan Annie and was caught several times in attempts to break into Bruce Willis's house for "Obvious Reasons" as he put it. After more than ten years there, he was released and picked up by John and Cameron's college as a tenured professor of theater and drama. Now each semester he believed that he was a character in a Shakespeare play.

John turned his glare back to the man. "You're not a ghost!" He yelled. "I'm not Hamlet, you're not my, father, and FYI when you steal chicken strips from peoples trays in the cafeteria, they can freakin see you!" He gestured with his hands aggressively, desperate for the man to understand.

"They can?" Cameron replied innocently. "Why doesn't anyone stop him then?" She asked with a frown.

"Cam, he's dressed in armor and draped in a bed sheet, they think he's insane!" He replied.

The girl frowned and nodded in understanding. John let out a growl of frustration, before taking a deep breath. "Let's just go …" He motioned Cameron down the hall.

When John walked away, Cameron reached into their bag and extracted a Graham cracker and humbly handed it to the professor, patting him on the head before she caught up with John.

The two best friends walked in silence, both all too aware of the ghost of Hamlet's father following ominously behind them, munching loudly on his cracker.

Cameron turned to John. "It could be worst … he could be Lady Macbeth, like last semester." She offered her annoyed partner.

Despite the still frustrated face, the young man chuckled. "True, but at the same time I don't think the student council has ever had as much Drama Club members in it." He widened his eyes at her in a very Sarah fashion.

"Yes, Lady Macbeth made it a very cut throat election."

"Cut throat?" John laughed at her. "Cam, the President of the Glee club still has his lunch checked for poison." He shook his head as they eased along through the hall.

After a pause Cameron spoke. "I get it, though …" She announced.

"Get what?" John replied digging through the bag on her hip for their Graham crackers.

"You have many similar traits to Hamlet." She answered.

Pulling out a large square, the soldier chuckled at the comment with exasperation, snapping the square in two and handing her a piece.

"Lay it on me …" He spoke with a mouth full.

"Your fraternal uncle and your mother are in a relationship." Cameron pointed out with a slight turn of her head, studying to see what he would say.

John just laughed at her. "Yeah … what mom and Derek have isn't what I'd call a relationship." He snorted.

"But they're engaged."

"For like the fourth time."

"Sixth time"

"There you go."

"But they're planning it."

John took a deep sigh. "Come on, how many times have you been wedding dress shopping with mom?" He asked.

Cameron frowned at him.

"Alright, how many times have we been wedding dress shopping with mom?"

Now she tilted her head, still frowning at him.

"Fine! How many times have I been wedding dress shopping with mom?"

"Fifteen times." She replied.

"See fifteen times and you know what? they never get married." He bit off another hunk of his Graham Cracker.

Cameron tightened her cheek. "You don't think that they'll do it this time?" She asked.

The youth sighed almost sadly at her question. "This is what's going to happen. They start planning like always, then mom gets scared like always, and sleeps with someone else. Derek gets mad, they fight, throw things at each other, and Derek ends up on our couch. Mom tries to date random person she had sex with, tries to start a relationship with them, but eventually breaks it off, because there's something wrong"

"Like always"

"Exactly, so mom wanders around the house for like a day, she realizes that it's empty, she's lonely, and realizes how badly she screwed up. So, she comes over to our apartment when we're gone. Then, she and Derek have it out like two emo teenyboppers, which's always followed by desperate, passionate, loving, and very inappropriate sex. Thus ending with the beginning of the same cycle" He concluded.

"And us having to buy a new couch." Cameron added.

John took a deep breath and shrugged. "I guess it says something that the furniture people are on first name basis with us." He sympathized.

"There are some things Frebreeze can't erase …" The girl supplied.

John snorted in disgust. "Same thing goes for mental images." He muttered. "So Derek and Mom's relationship problems don't make me Hamlet …" He shot behind him to the man following them.

"Avenge!"

"Whatever …"

He stuffed the rest of his Graham Cracker in his mouth and crunched bitterly. But just as they turned the corner, they were suddenly met by three campus security guards and a sweating fat man in suspenders who was rushing to catch up with the hard ass bald guard taking the lead. The Head of campus Security reminded John of Dr. Strangelove.

When they stopped in front of the two youths it was apparent that the guards and Dean had found who they had been searching for. John frowned in confusion and Cameron got a cold, Dangerous, and menacing look in her golden flecked eyes at the confrontational men in front of them.

Stiffly, tensely, and Slowly, John turned to look at his partner with clenched teeth as if he was suddenly hit with a realization that was so humiliatingly obvious he could hardly wrap his mind around it.

"Cam …?"

"Yes, John?"

"What Internet signal where you using earlier?"

* * *

><p>Cameron watched the traffic in front of her as the old mustang carried both passengers slowly through rush hour of the third largest city in the country. However Cameron thought that rush hour was a confusing name for this time of day seeing as they weren't actually moving all that fast. She would've asked John why it was called such, but she wasn't allowed to talk to him.<p>

After a three hour lecture, trial, and argument in the Deans office most of which she spent sitting outside, John had stormed out. He took her hand and led her off the campus. She had asked him what happened, but he informed her with bitter anger that she wasn't allowed to talk. He didn't specify for how long though.

"I can't believe it …" He said quietly.

Cameron flicked her eyes to her roommate, but didn't say anything.

"If there was some freak misunderstanding, or some other shit for luck situation it's going to happen to us!" There was something slightly unhinged and crazed about his voice.

"John …" She spoke carefully.

He glared daggers at her. "We just got suspended from College, Cam … Community College!" He was starting to laugh.

"Because I was using their network?" She asked.

"No, Cam! Cause you were looking at Porn on their network!" Cameron wasn't sure if John thought it was funny or if Derek was right and she finally "drove him off his nut".

"Oh …" was all she said looking out at the strip mall below the highway.

John grinded his teeth. "Oh?" he repeated to her. "OH!" he said again in a chastising voice. "Cam, you don't understand … we're no longer students at the college, okay. Mom and Derek, gives us diamond money to live on so long as we're students! You know what's going to happen if Mom finds out we got kicked out?"

"Yes" She did understand. "We, have to move back home." She answered his rhetorical question.

"I can't do it, Cam … I can't take it. I can't live in that house and have mom follow me around, and listen to Derek and Mom fight all day and then … at night." He shook his head. "I feel trapped over there!" he sighed. "If I have to go to bed alone one more night and then wake up to find mom reading a book next to me, I'm going to go insane!" He sounded almost sad.

There was something sympathetic in Cameron's eyes. She knew that John didn't like to sleep alone at night, not anymore at least. When they went to bed in their apartment John had very violent nightmares, residual gifts of fighting a bloody war. Sometimes they were so bad Cameron had to lie on top of him so that he wouldn't hurt himself. He needed Cameron with him at night, to lie beside him to be something he could hold when flash forwards ran like a movie in his head. He couldn't do that with Sarah, they had tried when he first returned from the future, but after a while his constant agony made her cry afterward. The guilt she felt for seeing John go through his night terrors hurt him and it began to damage John and Sarah's relationship. It was why he needed Cameron more than ever and when they were home they couldn't lie in the same bed all night.

"I don't understand you …" He sighed. "First it was watching Cinemax in front of me … which I can't help but feel like you were sending mixed signals, with that."

"I was …"

"Oh, well good job."

"Thank you, you were neglecting you studies by watching TV."

"Yep, nothing says hit the books like, soft core … right?"

"It worked."

John glared. "Then, it was that sex book you checked out at the library and tested out on me on the quad like some weird game of twister."

It was true, she had checked out a book on sex positions for her screen play. When she was reading it, they were laying down in the grass outside the building during lunch. John had been sleeping against her stomach when she wanted to see how a position worked. By the time John had caught on to what they were actually doing, the entire quad and passersby were watching them.

"It was research." She looked off in the distance.

He turned back to the road with a good natured sigh. Sometimes Cameron drove him nuts, but when they bantered it made him feel better. "Now it's this, Cam … I swear they're going to lock you in a sex rehab at the rate you're going." He shook his head.

Cameron turned back to John. "Are you allowed to have visitors in a sex rehab?" She asked.

There was a small pause in which the soldier tilted his head in thought. "I guess … probably like family." He shrugged.

"But if there are others addicted to sex wouldn't they be coming after said family?"

"I couldn't tell you …"

"Would you come visit me?"

"No …"

"Why?"

"Cause if they lock you up, then I can finally go back to Pottery Barn."

"It was fake ceramics."

"You didn't have to break the plate to prove your point, especially when it was me that had to pay for it."

"It was false advertising …"

"It's not illegal."

"It's dishonorable."

"Says the girl who watches Porn in front of me, to make me study."

"It was for a good cause …"

"Who says that the fake ceramic plates weren't for a good cause?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know … Cam?"

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"I don't know … I can't even remember what we were talking about anymore." John replied with an aspirated frustration turning back to Cameron who was watching him with a ghost of a smile. "You did that on purpose!" He snorted at her.

Wordlessly she looked out her window. "It's possible." She deadpanned.

He gave a long sigh. "Well the point is, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you're writing a porno." He scratched his head.

"I am" Cameron turned to look at John.

The young man chuckled and waited for her to say something else, but when she didn't he met her eyes as traffic slowed.

"Wait … you're shitting me."

"No"

"You're joking … right?"

"No"

"Wha …" John seemed to trip over his tongue and mind for a moment. "Cam … you can't write a porno!" He raised his voice in shock.

She tilted her head. "Why not?" She asked.

"Because …" John had a hard time coming up with a reason, still taken back by the reveal. "Because I don't think you know what you're doing … that's why." He blurted.

"Yes I do." She sounded defensive.

"No … Cam, it's just like when you said that you wanted to be an exotic dancer. Remember I told you that exotic dancer was just a nice way of saying stripper and you fought me all the way to the strip club. There is still glitter on my jacket, and you're lucky Ms. Lucy La Rue didn't call the cops when you threw her off me, through a pole, and into the far wall." He motioned his hand in a very Sarah way.

"This is different … I've been researching."

John shifted in his seat. "Yeah … but you've never had sex before!" he protested.

The machines eyes almost darkened. "Have you?" her voice seemed sharp.

A low whistle left John's lips and he scratched his stubble turning back to the traffic. It was obvious that he didn't expect for the question to be turned on him. There was a sudden awkward silence in the cab. "Well …" he shifted uncomfortably.

"It's not about experience, John. It's about being able to create a tangible yet distant situation." She explained.

The sigh the young man gave was a relenting one, conceding the point to her for that round. "Fine … what's it about?" he asked.

"Our life story." She deadpanned.

John now out right laughed at the comment, believing that she was pulling his leg this time. But once again when he turned back to her his face lost its humor.

"Hah, hah, NO! … No, no, no … no, No! No, no, no, no, NO!" He shook his head feverishly. "You cannot make a porno out of my life story!" John looked like he was in some walking nightmare.

Cameron tightened her cheek. "You and Sarah are always saying that you're plight was always under appreciated. Now is a chance to show the world."

John's face was a mask of disbelief. "Seriously …" He asked flatly. "That's what you're trying to sell me on?"

"Don't you want to let people in on the heart ache you've gone through for them … to let them know all you sacrificed for the world?" She pushed.

"Yeah, Cam, I'd love for everyone to know the shit the machines put me and mom through … and take credit for saving the world … just not in the credits after the fade to black when our characters have had the last sex scene of the movie!" he protested.

The car grew silent and he found Cameron was watching him with that look that said that she was going to do it anyway, but really wanted him to come with her on the journey through the Candy Land of insanity that was her ideas. It was a sweet innocence that was almost angelic and made him feel mushy on his insides.

"It will give the perfect distraction to make Sarah think that we're working on a school project …" She said hopefully.

When they came to a halt, John gave a shuddering deep breath. He reached over and pushed hair behind her ear, giving a wincing yet conceding face. Cameron smiled victoriously at him.

"Can't we hire some struggling film students and call it an Indy Film?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong>

_**I call this type of story "Sandlot writing" Because most of the material in it is made up on the fly. I mean the story has a plot and has a base structure for several events, but as for the jokes and the material isn't pre planed. I just pull it out of my fedora most times. **_

_**Before I go I just want to say that I really *Really* appreciate the Private Messages of love and commiseration from some many of you guys after the Authors notes. It's nice to know I'm not the only personally disgusted with the behavior of some people. **_

_**So my final thoughts on it before we move on is … Haters gonna hate (You know who you are). Bitches gonna Bitch (You know who you are), and Phantoms gonna write (you know who you are) LOL! **_

_**Have fun with it! **_

_**PS. The Dallas Cowboys just one hell of a game … So I'm so freakin stoked right now ... (Sorry for your Loss The1Russert) **_


	3. The Producing Process

_**I chuckled at my jokes here … not sure if you guys will. **_

_**If you watch Game of Thrones I think you'll appreciate this a little more, if you don't I hope you find this enjoyable.**_

_**Enjoy it! **_

**The Producing Process**

The midafternoon was warm and crowded outside of the Century City mall, people going back and forth, in and out of the large structure. In the future, Skynet had turned the building into a concentration camp. In the present, Teenagers had turned it into a concentration camp.

Girls and boys from ages twelve to eighteen wondered its walk ways and stores, milling about like prisoners to their consumer needs. Instead of feeding dead carcasses to the mechanical ovens like in the future, teenagers fed their souls to the fires of industry, lives revolving around having that one exclusive hoody, or pair of shoes. Each generation slaves, other by a maniacal computer system, or to the peers around them.

Through the back door of the loading docks, a girl sidled through the double doors, in a grey jump suit, carrying a large box on her shoulder that should be too heavy for two men to carry much less a girl of her age. Her stoic brown eyes searched the air conditioned back warehouse of a retail clothing store. It was empty, the crew gone to the food court.

She dropped the box full of hand bags with a mighty thud, unzipped her grey jumpsuit, letting it pool around her ankles. She wore a crimson dress the flowed lightly around her knees. Dressed this way no one would recognize her, especially her target.

Cowgirl boots taped lightly on the concrete of the warehouse as she cautiously walked toward the exit and into the main store. But once she pushed the door open, she walked very casual, as if she somehow owned the place. She looked like the typical entitled youth of her generation.

Navigating to the east side of the clothing store, she stopped a moment just to look at a pair of tight leather pants. She tilted her head feeling the supple material with interest. She pondered how her roommate would react to her wearing it.

Just as she wondered how the fusing of satin underwear and leather pants would help her get closer to her roomie, her target passed her down the tiled walkway. She thought that it had been a close call, but he seemed distracted and didn't notice her.

He was carrying a box under his arm and a clothing bag with something long inside it over his shoulder. The girl noticed that he seemed almost sad, a walk of shame, carrying the material in front of everybody. There was a sense of humiliated defeat in the man's hazel eyes, keeping his head down as he walked.

For a beat the girl thought that maybe it was the wrong time to approach the key figure that she needed for her plans to get off the ground. She let him have a head start, before she began to follow, fighting for the balance between close and not suspicious, tingling the sixth sense the man seemed to have when he was being followed. But luckily he didn't seem to notice, he was very much distracted at the moment by his thoughts.

Following him out of the large retail store at the end of the building, she found herself in the press of the large lobby of the Century City mall, the sound of hundreds of conversations and even more shoes echoed through the large spacious upstairs acoustics. It didn't faze the girl, she was made for these situations, keeping on her target as he navigated through baby strollers and groups of laughing teens.

Padding across the close cropped fibers of the blue carpet, she pondered just what her target was doing here. He was supposed to be somewhere else today, somewhere important. In fact before this plan, she was supposed to be getting ready for the rehearsal for said important "Thing" he had to do. She was supposed to be "the babe of honor" … or was that what it was called? She didn't think that was right, but she might need to check.

She followed the man down the escalator, keeping a group of girls chatting rapidly on phones between them. As she had a moment, she took time to observe the girls that she closely resembled in age. They talked about the males in their lives and other females in an insulting way. It seemed strange that some men lusted after these types of females, with their artificial tans, annoying language of poorly formed slang, and piercings. If she was doing her job, she should probably be imitating them down to the hair twirling, but her best friend had told her that if she ever imitated them that he would break his own fingers with a hammer. It seemed counter intuitive but maybe this kind of mindless chatter was some sort of defense mechanism to keep pedophiles away. If so it seemed quite brilliant, and she might find more respect for these adolescents and their glittery lips.

Overhead a female recording artist played over the speakers, obnoxiously stating over synthesizers that girls just wanna have fun. Was it true? She wasn't for sure, but if it was true than she needed to be more so … and what was wrong with Sarah Connor?

Disembarking the escalator, the man walked past booths set up on the first floor, small shops on wheels, some peddling hats and sun glasses, others miracle solutions on how to quit smoking with the use of artificial steam through an electric tube. The pursuit was strange to her, because she wasn't sure where he was going with the items. Maybe it was a milk run, he had to take care of some little things?

It became obvious after a moment as he approached a large store with black marble at the entrance. In the window was a puffy white dress with lacy sleeves, next to it a dapper tux with a white jacket and black slacks and bow tie.

However when he paused in front of it, the girl took cover behind a small booth that was decorated with collections of wigs and hair extensions labeled "The magic of Hollywood" When the man started to look around, sensing he was being tailed, the girl took a wig of long flowing blond hair and put it on changing her face into a character and turned her back to him, when he found her. She waited a moment using the glass of a video game store to watch him stare at her for a moment with suspicious hazel eyes before he went inside the bridal shop.

Turning back she hugged the stand and squinted, trying to see what he was doing. A shadow came up behind her, pressing into her back, a head looming just over her, sharing the stealth view behind the cart.

"You couldn't just use the entrance like everyone else could you?" John Connor asked her, lowering his head next to her cheek, suddenly pondering why he was sticking his head out like she was, feeling very Scooby Doo all the sudden.

"No …" She quirked an eyebrow, her voice cold with a polished English accent.

"You know you don't have an acc …"

"Yes"

"You didn't buy that blond …"

"No"

The man shot her a suspicious look when she continually cut him off. "I'm not talking Cameron right now am I?" He asked.

"No" she quirked her eyebrow.

"Then who am I talking to?"

"Cersei Lannister"

"You're kidding me?"

Cameron turned and looked at her companion innocently. "What?" She asked in a normal voice.

"You've been hanging out with the ghost of Hamlets father too long, you know that?"

"You don't like Cersei?"

"She reminds me of mom … and not in a good way, plus I always get this sneaking suspicion that she want to kill me when you play her."

"She does want to kill you …"

"Well … no one can accuse me of being paranoid."

"You think that the Robotic vacuum cleaners are out to get you."

"I don't see them chasing you around Sharper Image."

"I'm one of their brethren, it would be counterproductive."

"Yeah …" John trailed off. "Look, will you take off the wig?"

"I like the wig."

"You like the wig?"

"Yes"

"You kind of look like mom …"

"Thank you"

"That's not a compliment."

"You don't think Sarah's beautiful."

"No she is, it's just that …"

"You've seen her naked."

"We've all seen her naked."

"But she changes in front of you."

"Not the point, it's that Cersei makes me nervous." He glared.

Cameron tightened her cheek turned behind her. "She wouldn't kill Jaime, her twin brother, they love each other, they're more than just twins, they came into this world together, they belong together." She pointed to another blond wig.

"You want me to play dress up with you?"

"They belong together."

John held his breath; there was something in Cameron's tone, a straight forward admission. Her eyes searched his for a response. For a moment John wondered if she knew what she was saying. Was she talking about the characters, stating facts? Or was she trying to tell him something, subconsciously, through clever veiling?

Somewhere along the line John sputtered out a breath, not knowing that he had been holding it. "I uh …" He was suddenly lost for words. It was her eyes that seemed to hold his concentration. He shook his head and cleared his throat.

"I need to go talk to him." He swallowed. "I think it would be better if you didn't come along …" He avoided her gaze for a moment.

"Oh …" She sounded almost hurt by the comment. "Okay" she said quietly.

He felt bad. "You know him … he's not the most receptive guy when you're around." He gave her a sympathetic look.

Thankfully she gave him the softest of understanding smiles. "I understand." He grinned lightly with a nod. Despite the exchange there was still a twist of uncomfort inside of him that he had to send her away. It seemed like a long time since he had too. These days there wasn't anything the two of them hadn't done together.

Seeing the just the subtle hint of discomfort his cyborg partner gave him a bright smile. "It's okay John, there was a pair of pants I was thinking of buying … I think I might go try them on." She turned her head with such a feminine look it was quite amazing to the man.

"Alright … he chuckled at her, and the randomness of her statement.

Despite the light hearted exchange, John went ridged when her face went from smiles to a cold mask of pleasantness. She went back into character as she strode away.

"Hey! Cameron the wig!" He called after her, but she stalked off gracefully, as if she had been trained in the medieval art of being a lady all her life. Anxiously, he bit his lip. "Hey!" He called out to her again. "Just … Just don't set someone up to get gored by a Boar!" He called to her over the crowd that covered her exit.

He sighed, shaking his head, wondering how it's possible that machines could be better fan girls than … well fan girls. Turning, he found that everyone in ear shot seemed to be staring at him with curious stares.

"Well … what I meant was." He started to explain and stopped to think about what it was he was going to tell them.

"_Cause she would actually get someone gored because she's a cyborg and sometimes takes these thing completely serious?" _

He cleared his throat at smaller group still waiting for him.

"Trust me … you'll thank me later"

* * *

><p>The bridal store was definitely upper scale than most that John had been inside, and in the last year he had been to a lot of them. A path of black marble tile crisscrossed in the middle of the store, in the cross's center was a serene fountain leaking a tranquil slosh of water that John had to admit made him need to use the restroom last time he came here. The four sections where equally distributed between Beautiful silken and lace wedding gowns and Tuxedo's in clothing bags. With a square dedicated to other accessories, such as Hats and guarders.<p>

If there was one place John didn't want to be in again it was this place. For all the tough-as-nails personality his mother had, she sure was picky about her wedding dress. A year ago, John imagined Sarah and Derek's wedding to be a pant suit affair in city hall, or at that church they lived in for a day after his sixteenth birthday. But since the security of the future enabled, she completely turned left of the right way John had been thinking she was headed. She wanted flowers, a Church, and a beautiful dress. John had said he would pay money to see that. Now he paid money for gas, ferrying Sarah Connor around the city. Somehow he always thought that this would be something Cameron would be doing.

"_I don't dress shop."_

John wanted to call bullshit on her, Cameron's clothing expenditure could be a hydra sometimes, but for some reason she didn't like going to bridal stores. He wondered why sometimes, It seemed like a strange quirk for a machine to have.

It seemed that the employees remembered him from the incident from last month. It wasn't really his fault to begin with. He had been sitting around with the damn gown in his lap while his mother was taking care of "Honeymoon attire" that he really didn't want to see twice when she surprised him the first time. He had been more content texting with Cameron, when a reality show celebrity showed up. She started to flirt with him at first, offering a spot on her show, he didn't respond. That was when she suddenly snatched the dress out of his lap and made a run for it. In hind sight he may have over complicated the situation when he took the camera from one her guys and threw at her legs. The head dive she made going into the fountain was impressive, though not as impressive as the price of the dress that John had to buy.

"_Well if I ever get married I got a running start."_

"_Yeah just don't knock it into the fountain with a camera." _

"_Who needs support and thanks for saving your dress when I got belligerent sarcasm?" _

"_I'm the mother of the future, John … it's called innovation." _

"_In that case, every gold digging trophy wife of Shrinks in the future send their thanks and a fruit basket." _

"_Good … We're bound to run out of Bananas eventually." _

On the other hand if he thought that the media attention was heavy when his family's name was cleared of all crimes by John Henry, then the media firestorm over the "Wedding winder pass" or his personal favorite "The Immaculate exception" was ten times that. Cameron had the episode of the E! reality show on their DVR and watched it all the time, though he wasn't sure if it was to tease him, or because she liked to see him throw something at the big rear ended celebrity that for some reason she disliked greatly.

The person he was looking for was standing at the checkout counter, scribbling through paper work with receipts in front of him. The woman behind the counter looked at the handsome man with sympathy. When she saw John she glared at him and walked away with a box.

"You know … you can approach me without the metal stalking me."

Derek Reese, lifted his gaze to his nephew, finishing his signature. He wore a long sleeve and jeans, his green jacket looked wrinkled and his jaw was covered with thick stubble. But it was his eyes that made John suddenly realize that something wasn't right. They were red, and tired, a sad kind of tired.

"What happened?" He didn't need to ask, he probably knew what happened, but it was a dick thing to do to say" I told you so …" especially when it came to your parents.

Rather than respond, Derek reached into his pocket and held a piece of paper that looked like it had been crumbled at least a hundred times, and spent a few hours in a trash bin. The younger man sighed, taking it and looking down at it.

**I'm Sorry**

**-Sarah**

John made a restraint angry suck of his teeth. "Who was it this time?" He asked shaking his head in irritation.

Derek blinked with a passive mask. "Charlie" He said looking up at John.

A sudden guilt rushed through the young man, a strange sense of vertigo. "Again?" He growled with a self-loathing sigh.

Derek shrugged at his rhetorical question. "He must have been hanging around." His voice was stone.

"I told … Warned him to stay away, from both of you." John responded with frustration.

"I'm not surprised … he doesn't take you seriously." Derek collected the receipts. "He still sees you as that fifteen year old kid who helped pick out the goddamn ring she's probably wearing again."

When John and Cameron returned to the present, John had purposely set the date back some, keeping watch of his family. He had been extremely confident after getting back Cameron. He remembered the high when she came up to him naked, fully restored, the way she felt in his arms when he took her so furiously, the way his hands had traced her features as she watched on with the slights of smiles. He was filled with such mad hope then, an arrogance that he couldn't lose, that he could save everyone he had lost along with stopping Judgment Day. It had been Cameron who had warned him not to cheat death, that they were about to go into a timeline which might not be theirs anymore. John hadn't listened, he couldn't be stopped, not even by the wisdom of a being he trusted more than almost anyone.

It started with Michelle Dixon, stopping the tower from falling on the two couples in the desert. Cameron had warned him that he didn't know what he was doing. John told her that she was either with him or she can take seat on the bench. She never said a word afterward, but he knew that she didn't approve of what he was doing.

John was still feeling arrogant and the master of time and space when they saved Derek in the Weaver compound. Cameron had knocked him out and stuffed him in the back of the getaway car. John and Cameron celebrated that night. They had done it, they had created the perfect world.

It wasn't till the reveal of themselves after his younger self left to reclaim his Cameron that they began to see the differences in the people around him. It began with his mom and Derek, anyone who lived with them knew there was something deep between the two that either's pride would allow the other to admit. So when Derek didn't die, they eventually pursued what had been there. John told his companion that she owed him dinner. Cameron conceded with sushi, she knew he hated sushi … That was also the day John remembered that she could be a sore loser.

The one thing that John hadn't really thought about was that Charlie Dixon had lost his wife in his timeline, which had led to a distaste of Sarah. Beforehand Charlie still carried deep feelings for Sarah. With Michelle Dixon alive, those feelings never went away. What John had first thought was him helping Charlie, turned out to be a problem of great proportion. His actions had not only changed the timeline, but began the constant tug of war between Derek and Charlie that took a toll on his mother's mind and heart, while breaking Michelle Dixon's heart when she left Charlie and broke his mother's jaw five months ago.

"You're regretting it aren't you?" Hazel eyes were seeing right into their nephew's heart.

"Can I regret saving a life?"

"If you can regret taking one … I'm sure you can regret saving one." Derek shrugged.

John felt guilty for feeling guilty for saving Charlie's life.

When he was a kid, Charlie was the best thing since buttered bread. John had liked him, because he was so different than anyone his mother had been with before. For a fatherless kid Dixon was everything he could've wanted, motorcycles, girls, manly knowledge. There wasn't anything the teenager could tell the man. But a desolate future, battlefields, and killing to survive had changed John. Returning home, he found that Charlie wasn't the same as before he died in John's original timeline.

At first he thought that maybe something had changed, that they had bumped the timeline on the wrong axis. But as time went by John started to realize that the man had always been that way. He wasn't sure how he missed that he was always prying into their business, sticking in nose where it didn't belong. But most of all that he was always putting pressure on Sarah to give him something more emotionally than she was comfortable surrendering to the man.

Meanwhile Derek had been the opposite. As a teen John had always felt uncomfortable around his uncle. He was always pushing John, hammering him for mistakes, or decisions that he had made. He never let up, never gave the boy an inch. He was a hard ass, a Jerk.

It took John a long time to realize that he was a jerk because he cared. He never realized because he had never had a father, that Derek was a father to him, not a substitute or something idealized by John like Charlie was. Derek was what a father truly was. Since then they had only gotten closer since he came back. They had similar experiences and most importantly, Derek finally saw him as an equal. More to the point Derek had never put pressure on Sarah, he was there for her when she needed and wanted him. Their only problem was that Sarah couldn't place her trust in him since Jesse. He kept too many secrets, the one thing Charlie never had on her.

It was strange to the young former soldier; it had been like two ships passing in the dark, night and day. A 180 shift between what the teenager and the adult knew and felt comfortable around. Charlie just didn't have the appeal anymore to the man that he had to the boy many years ago. The realization came when he threatened Charlie to keep away from Sarah when he kept coming around even after she left him. John couldn't blame him, even if the man wasn't on John's well liked list anymore, he was suffering through a triangle John created when he didn't listen to Cameron.

Sometimes, not many, but sometimes John thought that it would've been better if he had left most things the way they had played out in his and Cameron's timeline. Maybe there wouldn't be so many problems and he wouldn't have hurt so many people unintentionally.

"You know what they say about good intentions." He muttered with a shake of his head.

Derek sighed. "Don't beat yourself up over it kid … your mother was going to do what she wanted, if it wasn't this …" He trailed off.

"It would be something else." John finished for him.

Derek smiled stiffly and placed a hand on his shoulder, both shaking their heads at the situation in general.

"Look …" the older man cleared his throat. "I don't want you to blame your mom … you know." He shrugged.

The younger frowned. "Come on Derek, you know I don't take sides …" he sighed.

"I know … your mother doesn't."

"That's her feeling guilty and projecting on me. She knows what she's doing is wrong, she just can't admit it to herself."

"She's just thinking too much."

"She'll be back."

Derek had a soulful look. "She moved out." He shifted his jaw.

That was a statement that John knew had big complications. Derek was always the one to leave, he usually stayed with John and Cameron, while Sarah had the house. Now Derek had the house, which meant that Sarah had moved in with Charlie. It was a big step in the wrong way, as her son saw it.

"Look man …"

"No, you don't have to do this, John. It's me and your mom's problem to work out not you and the machines." He paused and gave a look around at the name.

John snorted. "She's not here …" He knew his uncle was looking for Cameron hiding amongst the silk and lace.

"Where is she?" He asked nervously. It would seem that old habits die hard and the veteran couldn't have a piece of mind till he knew where Cameron was.

"Probably ranting about how she's "Storm born" and "The mother of dragons" and that's why they shouldn't charge her so much for corndogs." He laughed. Derek just looked at him strangely.

"It her new favorite show."

Derek looked uncomfortable. "I thought you were going to start monitoring what she watched." He leveled him with chastising glare.

His nephew scoffed. "Come on Derek, she's not six … she knows when fantasy stops and reality begins." He walked away a little bit.

"Really?" Derek followed. "Do I have to remind you of the Godfather disaster?"

"Oh come on … it wasn't the scandal you make out to be."

"She stuffed an old woman in a trunk of a car."

"Hey! That old woman was always squeezing and touching mom's ass at the diner … Cameron was just, you know, being protective."

"She left her in a wheat field with a box of cannolis."

"And you said machines don't have a heart."

His uncle gave him a dark look. Seeing the seriousness in his eyes at what he saw as nothing more than an innocent sense of protectiveness for the only family she had.

"She's fine Derek." He laughed miserably at his uncle. After a pause, he cleared his throat. "She's actually why we need to talk to you." He shifted.

"Really?" The soldier lifted an eyebrow.

John had never been very comfortable asking for things from people. "Yeah … we kinda need … we need a loan." He squirmed in discomfort.

The older lifted his eyebrow. "What? You trading her chip in for an IPOD dock?" He had a shit eating grin for the glare being directed at the comment.

"Droll Derek … very droll." He shifted his jaw.

Despite the dig at his best friend, to hear his uncle laugh brought a smile to his face and to see Kyle's smile again, made Derek feel just a little better about his situation.

"Alright …" The man shook his head. "What's going on?" He asked. "They hiking your tuition or something?"

John shifted again. "About that …" He bit his lip when Derek lifted an eyebrow at John's reaction. "Me and Cam … we kind of … well we got kicked out." He shrugged.

Sometimes John forgot how easy going his uncle could be by himself, without Sarah Connor leaning back into his shoulder flexing her Iron grip. His uncle's reaction was to snort. "What? Cameron dress in a tux and try to free the penguins?" He shook his head.

"Not exactly"

"Than what was it exactly?"

"A long story"

Derek sighed. "Alright so what? You looking for advance on the rent?" he pressed.

"No … Cameron's starting a project and we need a little bit of funding." He suddenly found a white fedora interesting.

"Project … is she making a Porn?" The man laughed at the thought, facing John.

"…"

"You're shitting me."

John groaned. "Yeah well … I had the same reaction. But she's set on doing it." He turned back to the disbelief on his father figures face.

"You're asking me to use me and your mom's wedding money to fund the metal's nudie film? You know how that looks?" He asked.

John gritted his teeth in burnt pride. "First of all, you and mom aren't getting married." He pointed.

"First point awarded to the jack ass with the woefully normal facial hair for his endeavor."

"I hate you … second, I know how this looks, Derek … but it's better to ask you and then to have Cameron robbing banks for the funds." John scratched his neck.

"She's that modivated?"

"Remember that time I was telling her about Chicago deep dish pizza. She nagged us for like an entire week because she wanted some and we told her that there wasn't any in California … and she tricked us into the jeep and drove us all the way to Chicago just so she could taste it?"

"That bad?"

"That bad"

The older man face palmed. "Ugh … you know I could die for this?" He scrubbed his eyes. "If I give you the money and your mom finds out about this, she's going to kill me. And if I say no than Cameron is going to hold me at gun point till I say yes." He glared behind a hand.

"Looks like a no win scenario Captain Kirk."

Derek growled in frustration. "She knows what she's doing right? It's not like that time she wanted to be an exotic dancer and you told her that it was just a nice way of saying stripper and then got into that fight at the strip club?" He tilted his head.

"Trust me … she's seen Cinemax."

His uncle glared. "Oh well that's reassuring." He said flatly.

"Yes or no, Derek."

"I don't know …"

John sighed at the man's indecision watching the fountain for a moment, before he got a wicked smile.

"You know, if you don't use that money mom will most likely come for it … with Charlie?"

" …"

"…"

"I'm listening"

* * *

><p>When John found his companion she was standing outside the store staring at a mannequin of a silk sleeveless gown of a silvery white, slender and beautiful. It was just like John's friend he thought with a smile.<p>

"Hey …" He walked up to her, she had a shopping bag in one hand and a shake in the other, standing like a statue. "I thought you would be over by the carousel … terrorizing everyone." He chuckled.

Cameron turned to John. "A Khal who cannot ride is no Khal at all." He laughed at her mundane wisdom when she handed him a milk shake. But he frowned taking it, not at the friendly gesture, but at the ring of chocolate around her mouth.

"What happened to you?" He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.

"I wanted to buy these pants … but I was short." She showed him the bag.

John twitched a cheek. "You could've come and asked me for some money." He dampened the cloth on the condensation on the plastic shake cup.

"I didn't want to disturb you and Derek … So I went to the food court." She paused when John handed her back the shake and began to clean her mouth.

"You entered that Cookie cake contest?" He snorted.

"Yes … If I could eat an entire cookie cake I would get free mall credit." She acknowledged watching him as he work with a gentle care that fascinated her.

The youth smiled distractedly. "You're a beast you know that?" He chuckled at her. "Those cakes are huge." He widened his eyes.

"Nothing in the verse can stop me."

John laughed at her and shook his head, not knowing that he was now stroking her cheek, a thumb rubbing a beauty mark where he had held her face still as he cleaned.

She let his hand linger a moment. "My face is clean, John." There was the slightest catch in her voice.

Realizing what he was doing, the young man cleared his throat and removed his hand as fast as possible. "Sorry …" he shoved it in his pocket. He avoided Cameron gaze that tried to pierce through him.

"What did Derek say?" He was grateful that she found something to talk about.

With a smug grin, John pulled out a thick roll of money and shook it playfully. She mimicked the smile genuinely, trading the shake for the roll and undid the rubber band. Silently she began counting bills while John sipped their shake.

With a sorrowful sigh, John spoke. "Hey, uh, Cam … mom's gone." He bit his lip.

"I know …" She responded continuing to count.

"You do?"

"Yes, she called me last night."

"She did?"

"Yes, I thought you would've heard … I was curled up with you."

John blushed. "Must have been asleep." He scratched his head.

"Must have …" She nodded in commiseration. "This will be more than sufficient." She held the money up to show him before she folded it neatly and rebanded it.

John frowned as she handed the stack to him. "Wait … why was mom calling you?" he asked.

Cameron tightened her cheek and returned her stare to the gown. "Sarah talks to me sometimes … about personal things. I guess she believes I can't be Judgmental."

John glared. "Because you're a machine?" He asked darkly.

Dipping her head, the girl spoke. "Yes" She looked back up, her voice was a soft whisper.

John let his frown melt and a rueful smile replaced it. "Well if she thinks that you're not Judgmental, then she's clearly never watched "Jersey Shore" with you." He smirked wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"I hate Snookie."

"I know you do."

There was a silent pause, Cameron continuing to stare at the gown thoughtfully while John sipped more of the shake, sorting out his family problems in his head.

"Do you think about it?" the cyborg asked her friend, looking up at him.

"I try not too … they're in media enough."

"No" She cut him off. "About getting married, not Jersey Shore." She frowned at him.

"Oh" he paused. "Sometimes … not so much anymore." He shrugged and looked down at Cameron "Mom's kinda ruined it for me." He chuckled.

The girl searched his eyes. "But you think about it?" She asked.

"Yeah, sometimes …" He shrugged looking at the things in the window.

"Me too" She said absently going back to the gown. John looked back down at her wondering what she had meant. Suddenly he realized that maybe he wasn't the only one who saw him waiting for her at an altar.

"_Childish dreams" _

He handed her back the shake with a smile. "Come on, your grace!" He swept her off her feet and began carrying her, much to the stares of others, some with smiles others with quirked eye brows.

As he carried her to the exit Cameron sipped and frowned. "John?" She asked.

"Mm" he readjusted her weight.

"What's role playing?"

"What?"

"When I went into the store I bought the pants that I told you about and the lady at the cashier saw my wig and asked if we role played. I thought she meant LARPing …"

"So you said that we did …"

"No, I said I did and you liked to watch."

"Ugh … well there's another store I can't go into in this Mall."

"Since it's not LARPing what is it?"

"Roleplaying?"

"Yes"

"Umm, Speed Dating."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong>

_**So I'm not sure if that last joke landed but … I liked it.**_

_**Well I tend to like the Game of Thrones jokes with Cameron, as Sarah would say "It's her kinda story" and I've always thought that Cameron, given the chance would be a big geek.**_

_**Like most of you know I'm not a fan of Charlie Dixon. But I've never been unfair to the character no matter how much I hate him. I tried to get a realistic look at how John would change from being a kid to being a war hero returning home. **_

_**Also the Derek/Sarah/Charlie Triangle was also would bring some really interesting problems for John and Sarah which as hinted at they're in a really bad place at the moment. It's also a chance for some revelations to be discovered for Jameron. **_

_**The way I see this story you really can't have it funny all the time, you've got have a little drama to help move it along. Like I've been telling Kaotic it's supposed to be a TSCC romantic comedy. **_

_**R&R peeps … **_

_**PS. A prize will be given to the person who gets the "Immaculate exception" reference in the right context. Extra credit to non-Americans **_


	4. The Casting Process, Part I

_**So this chapter almost scared me away from doing this story, just because things weren't meshing well. See this chapter is a transitional to the next part of the story . **_

_**Anyway I still don't think I like it all that much … even though some third party readers thought it was funny. **_

_**Enjoy it! **_

**The Casting Process, Part One**

The walk from the parking garage was long and blurry at best … John Connor had been self-aware most of his life. Some might call it good to have in your life, some might call it a curse, Cause to be self-aware means to have a lack of imagination and dreams. Sometimes John saw it both ways, It gave him confidence in situations of danger, and other times he paced the floor boards over the times of peace, knowing that there were just something's he couldn't do.

These were the facts, John Connor being the self-aware man he was, knew that as a man with an insane amount of Irish blood in him, that when in doubt the ability for a man of his caliber to go into a underground fighting ring and beat the snot out of someone, have a pint, and then get paid was always an reliable back up plan to the alternative of actually getting a job.

Not that he didn't want a Job, He sort of fell in love with the idea of having some sort of normality, waking up and going to work, the mundane things that made the war and scorched ruins that haunted his dreams just that … dreams. But the problem was that if he got a job it would break his cover that he was still a full time student in college with Cameron and not two kids kicked out for looking at Porn on the web, who then go and decided to make their own Porn.

Whither John liked it or not, he couldn't get the extra grand that he and Cameron needed by traditional means, and by traditional he means the chump change the two made in swindling bikers and frat boys in rigged games of pool which doesn't really work because it wasn't quite enough to pay for the costuming, sets, and camera equipment, plus the important need to eat sometime this week.

He didn't actually mind all that much when he thought about it, fighting low lives that objectify women and beat on hooker girlfriends brought a sense of purpose that stretched beyond sitting on the couch and watching superhero cartoons with Cameron. Sure they could always give up the apartment and move back home with Derek, but the place to a certain extent had sort of become a principle of the matter. Maybe it was a symbol of he and Cameron's independence from needing his parents.

So in that way, stumbling in at seven in the morning with concussion like symptoms and a hazy memory of thick dark beer and some seven foot monster's collar bone shattering made it all worth it when he opened that door and took in the sites of collectible actions figures, Game of Thrones Posters, and famous ballet advertisements from Paris on the walls. In front of the plasma sat two video game consuls and a stack of games on the floor. Looking at the comic book character busts and Darth Vader cookie jar, one might have thought to find an overweight pizza face, with greasy hair and a unmistakable smell of hot pockets lurking somewhere close, not a beautiful cyborg who liked to listen to Chopin while owning twelve year olds in Halo. There was just something he loved when he got home and took in the smell of Cameron's perfume and …

"Pancakes?"

The truth was that John and Cameron never had pancakes that much anymore, it wasn't just that Cameron liked Cereal a lot more, but pancakes since they were away from home sort of became a special meal, almost eating batches that weren't burnt or had a funny bitter taste to them just didn't seem right.

He shook his head with a frown when he sniffed the air and it actually … smelled good for once. He had to admit that it wasn't usually what they ate, but if Cameron was making Pancakes then something big most have gone down while he was pounding trolls into warehouse concrete.

"I thought you were holding auditions, today?" He called into the kitchen blinking rapidly, shaking his head again trying to stop the world from spinning.

There was no response …

Glaring, he continued forward toward the covered kitchen, He rubbed the back of his neck tiredly and yawned. Suddenly his left leg just completely slid out from under him and he landed with a heavy thump on the carpeted floor. Suddenly his already punch drunk vision, went straight to shit faced. He made a miserable groan from the floor.

"Are you okay?"

It might have been his buckling consciousness or a concussion that was finally starting to settle on his already damaged cranium, or maybe he was finally going crazy … but that absolutely did not sound like Cameron asking him that question. Who it did sound like however was …

"I might live …" He had to be imagining things.

Slowly, and under much duress physically as he fought the urge to just lie there and be left to die in peace with the wonderful smell of pancakes escorting him to that big IHOP in the sky.

Making a frustrated noise of helpless anger he picked up what he slipped on and limped into the kitchen where the sound of the grill was going with just the whiff of vanilla enchanting the kitchen and suddenly putting John into a forgiving mood.

He looked down at the object in his hand. "Machines have tried to kill me, before I was born, when I was twelve, and when I was fifteen, and then seven years in a future war. After all the close calls, scars, off angled fingers, and medals. It would be a shame to read the headline that the mighty John Connor was killed by tripping on … Justin Bieber?" John looked up from the suspect CD at the blur standing in front of the grill. "Cam, if you wanted to kill me you could've just shot … Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" John halted his sentence and then groaned miserably slamming his head against the frame with a thump as the blur took shape.

John found a strange comfort at the rush of his sinuses when he hit head again, momentarily having full control, almost like hitting a malfunctioning piece of machinery, finding the right vibration that put all his wires in the right place to work.

"Morning to you too …" Sarah Connor snarked ,frowning as she flipped a Pancake on a plate. "Made you breakfast." John felt her pass in front of him the smell of a hot meal luring him in pursuit. He limped a few steps before he stopped and got a good look at his mother.

"You know just in case you didn't know …" John got a good look at a thread bare tank top and panties. "You're too comfortable." He glared at her.

"The common curtsy is to say thank you." She shot back.

"We have a strict Clothing policy in this establishment." He challenged.

"I'm not naked am I?"

John gripped the bridge of his nose losing his sinuses again. "Tell me you didn't sleep here?" He sighed in irritation.

Sarah gave a humored half chuckle. "Okay … I didn't sleep here." She quirked an eyebrow with a shrug.

There was something dark that over took her son. "And where did Cameron sleep?" He asked.

"Cameron doesn't sleep." She set the plate down.

The soldier's lips twitched and he grinded his teeth. "Christ, some things don't change." He scoffed angrily. "You come here unannounced, uninvited, make yourself at home, kick Cameron out of our room … and act like nothing's happened." He bit with a low dangerous growl.

"You and Cameron's" Room is it?"

"Yes, me and Cam's room."

There was something disapproving in her eyes. "I swear it's like I don't know you …" she tilted her head.

The look was long and chilled. "You don't." he seethed.

Sarah shook her head at him. "You know John, you sure know how to make someone feel welcome." She crossed her arms.

John's eyes were emblazed when he spoke before he had time to think. "When you walked out on Derek, you didn't just walk out on him, you walked out on me, on Cameron, and on this family … trust me, you're not welcome here!" He pounded the kitchen wall in controlled anger and clenched teeth, a pot lid letting out just a little squeal of steam.

The woman with her long raven curls seemed strangely unaffected by his harsh comments as if the response was lagged, or maybe taking extra time to process his words. But after a moment she lowered her head and for the first time in many years John saw his mother visibly devastated by his statement.

The remorse and guilt ate away the anger and John made an absurdly tired sigh of stress and anxiety. He found it hard to watch his mother have that new look on her face. He might have lost prospective on things in those few moments. This was the woman who raised him, who must have been the only parent in history who actually wanted her grown son to stay at home rather than leave it.

He scrubbed his face and wandered to his black leather sofa and dropped half-hazardly on the cushions, sinking in comfortably, he hid his face in his hands. It was hard to correlate the feelings of a twenty four year old man, to the memories of an eight year old who worshiped the woman in front of him. He was sure if the eight year old had been in this room he would've rushed John and kicked him in the balls.

"Look … I … I didn't mean." He placed a hand over his eyes and leaned back.

The sofa dipped next to him and he felt a body press against him, it was soft and cold, cold enough to make John remove his hands from his eyes and look at his mother close, a stray tear in her eye. She was showing him a moment of rarely seen vulnerability that at that very moment seemed to remind John how much he forgotten what she meant to him …

And when did that Camera and tripod get there?

"John …" Sarah's hand was cold when she took his stubbly cheek and turned his face gently to look at her. "I'm sorry this keeps happening, I give you a home and then just take it away." She said a tear gliding down her cheek.

"It's not about having a home …" He sighed with a confused frown at the sudden talk of homes.

She placed a thumb on his lips. "Yes it is …" She nodded, she tilted her head, brushing her hand through his hair. "Whither it's Nebraska or here, you want a home, a place of security, to feel normal." She nodded.

John cleared his throat and shifted. Even though he wasn't sure what Nebraska had to do with anything after all these years, in essence, Sarah had hit the nail on the head, it wasn't just about his mother and his uncle. It was about being a family, of having a place to come too and know that people where there to support you and help you up. He wanted everyone to be happy and together.

He couldn't stand it, she was just so cold and sad looking that he had to take her in his arms. He felt like he was hugging a neglected pillow by an air conditioning vent. She was disarmingly soft.

"I just want you to know …" Sarah pulled away and took his hand and placed it to her chest. "This is your home …" She steadied his hand against her. "Where ever this is, this is where you can come and make your bed." She took his hand and kissed it.

John frowned at the comment, but the look she was giving him, like her entire existence was hanging on his very response to her speech. So he touched her cheek comfortingly, her head turning into his palm.

"I know … alright, I know." He nodded.

"I love you …" She whispered and suddenly she was getting closer.

"Yeah … I love you too." Deer in the head lights seemed to be his best imitation at the moment when arms wrapped around his neck. He was imagining this … yep, hit way too many times in the head, there was no way she was giving him "The Signal".

He tensed when plump lips planted a cold kiss against his forehead. Time stopped for him, suddenly their eyes were even and her nose nipped his. He felt weight in his lap, his hands trailing up her stomach, and something wet and cold brushed his ….

"CUT!"

The spell was broken and suddenly John whirled in Sarah's embrace to find Cameron in tank top and jeans stalk into the room, she wore a red Beret and a white scarf. A yell horn was in her hand and pressed against her mouth.

"Cam what the … " John trailed off, turning back to Sarah … but only to stare into cold blue sterile eyes that were annoyingly familiar, usually stiff and put away red hair was down and curled.

"HELL!" John pushed off Catherine Weaver and for the second time this morning found himself on the apartment carpet, watching the world spin.

Without a second glance Cameron stepped over John to the couch. "That was good … but Sarah doesn't cry unless it something really emotional … also you have to be quicker picking up on emotional moments and responding to it." She advised.

"Cameron …"

"I thought all human women cry over the slightest things?"

"Cameron …"

"It's a misconception, not all women cry so easily … you shouldn't watch so much lifetime network."

".on"

"So not every successful woman came from an abusive of relationship, moved to a small town, found love, and became a millionaire?"

"…"

"Misleading isn't it?"

"CAMERON!"

The machines stopped conversing and looked down at the man who was flat on his back staring rather calmly at his ceiling with his hands resting on his chest … waiting for the coma to take him.

"Yes, John?"

"Cam … why is Weaver sitting on our couch, seven in the morning, in Victoria's Secret Lingerie … more to the point, why was she pretending to be mom?" He asked even toned.

The cyborg turned back to the liquid metal, before back to her roommate who didn't seem to get up, which puzzled her a moment. So before she answered she stretched out on carpet next to him and placed her hands on her stomach in mimicry, wondering if she had missed out on some ritual.

"She's auditioning for the role … it's a small cast I've concluded all together …"

"Cam, Weaver can't play, mom …" He cut her off with a glare at the ceiling fan.

Cameron tightened her cheek. "I would've concurred with you last night, but this morning she's convinced me." She turned her head so that she could see the liquid metal.

"So I've acquired the role?" the red head asked.

"Yes"

"No!" John cut in again.

Cameron turned back to her roommate. "Why not? Yes, she was a little slow on the uptake, but she fooled you … you even kissed her." She tilted her head.

"The reason she can't play mom is because … Now hold on one goddamn minute, I didn't kiss her!" John sat up and looked down at his companion in outrage.

"I believe you did." She countered.

"We brushed noses!" He snapped.

"That's an Eskimo kiss … Nehehe."

"And your lips brushed." Cameron added to the new comment from the back.

"What? No, they didn't!" John turned to the couch to the cold red haired woman in a see through teddy. She made a miniscule gesture with her fingers.

John shook his head. "That's not a kiss!" He protested.

"I'd call that illegal touching … nehehe!"

John sighed and touched his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Cameron?" He sighed in annoyance.

"Yes?"

"Why is your idiot brother sitting in my chair in his boxers, with a Burt Reynolds mustache and cowboy hat?"

All eyes went to a blond man with the most obnoxious and one might say the fuzziest mustaches that anyone had seen in many years.

In fact it was worth noting that the last man to have such a mustache of girth and fuzz was Adam Blakely, who strangely enough was college professor to Sarah Connor and her best friend Ginger Ventura. It should also be noted that Ginger invited her professor to their apartment one night, due to cold weather, car trouble … and a failing grade in his class. Ginger being a girl with a loose set of morals and legs seduced her professor and his mustache to Sarah's room while the future mother of the resistance was at the library. What the red haired girl didn't know was that the raven haired teen had left a thermal blanket warmer plugged in for her return. It was during a round of oral sex when there was an unfortunate short in the complex's electrical … the result being a sudden spark from the blanket that started what one might call a "brush fire", and thus concluding the reign of magnificence that was Adam Blakely's mustache who met it's doom in a fiery end that Robert Frost would be proud of. It is often overlooked that amongst all of Sarah Connor's accomplishments in her later years it is little remembered that she was not only the mother of destiny, but the first to use the nickname "Fire Crotch." In memoriam for her grandmother's quilt and the only hair on her friend that she didn't have to perm.

Everyone's gaze continued to be focused unequivocally on John Henry as he lounged on John's recliner bare chested, with a pattern of bright rubber ducky's on his powder blue boxers, a hat one might find on a drunk spring break "Woo Girl" and of course his imposing "Lip weasel".

"Oh …" Cameron said after a moment. "I told him he could help with my movie." She smiled at John.

"I'm the Camera guy, because there's no male on male action." John Henry waved innocently.

"Why should that matter?"

"Cause I'm gay …"

"Since when?"

"Three days, thirteen hours, thirty minutes, and five seconds ago."

"Well that explains the Bieber CD." John twitched an eyebrow. "So if you're the Camera guy why are you half naked?" There was no mistaking the dislike in his voice for the machine.

"I thought everyone was supposed to be naked in a Porno and have a glorious mustache …?" He looked around.

"That's not a mustache." John glared. "It looks like you sheered a golden retriever and pasted the shedding to your upper lip." He crossed his arms.

"It wasn't a golden retriever." He responded with a snotty tone. "It was a scotty dog." The machine countered as if he was the cleverest being in the world, pointing the ends of the dog hair mustache.

"It's hard to believe there was a time we actually thought you were going to be the death of the planet." He shook his head in disbelief.

It was widely known that John didn't in fact like John Henry … no, scratch that, John Connor often fantasied about ways he could kill Cameron's younger brother some nights. It wasn't just that the second sentient machine in the world's favorite hobby was to annoy John all hours of the day and night, nor to be ambushed and suffer through the machine family's obsessions. (One doesn't simply get attacked on the street by ninja's who leave clues to a Built Day celebration for Cameron.) But it was the fact that John Henry had kidnapped Cameron, and separated them for such an extended period of time. It was a private cause for the grudge that would never be buried.

"So Catherine gets the job?" Cameron broke in.

John sighed. "No … Cam, she can't get the job." He folded his arms.

"Cause you kissed me … which is against my worker's rights?" Weaver chimed in.

"I didn't kiss you!" He turned back to his old war partner, throwing his arms in the air.

"You say that now … but a jury of your peers will say different, when I'm through with you." Sarah Connor picked up a magazine.

John motioned to her for Cameron's attention. "See! There, she just made my point for me!" he announced.

"Because, she's going to suing us for sexual harassment?"

"No, Cam … She's morphing into mom … you realize that people are going to watch this and think mom actually made a porno?" He quirked his head to make a point.

Cameron frowned. "But Sarah already makes pornographic items." She pressed.

The youth looked puzzled. "What?" He shook his head.

To illustrate her point, Cameron walked passed John and got to one knee in front of the sofa and reached under, feeling around a moment. After a beat she extracted something from underneath and walked back to John.

He sighed with a suspicious look taking the digital photo and stated at it, screwing up his face. "Cam, I really don't see …" He paused.

The girl tightened her cheek, taking the photo and turning it to another angle before handing it back to him. He tilted his head for a second.

"Sweet Jesus!" He moaned.

"That was Derek's spare."

John squinched his face. "That's the last time they barrow our camera." He shuttered.

He turned back to Cameron. "Look that might be the second time that piece of anatomy has surprised me in three months … but that's private Cam … just because they take pictures of … her, doesn't mean you can just use her image." He sighed.

DING!

John and Cameron turned their heads to the door.

"That must be the pizza …" John Henry got up.

"Pizza? It's seven in the morning." John frowned.

John Henry paused. "Yeah, but we're making a porno, You can't have a porno without a pizza guy." He explained.

"How the hell do you know?"

"I did research?"

"You did?"

"Yes, there's 6,224 viruses in the Zeira Corp. Mainframe as of six hours ago to prove it, and a Debbie Does Dallas wallpaper on my computer." Catherine Weaver answered, flipping a page in Wizard.

The soldier swung back. "Hey, you can't just ask a random pizzas delivery boy to do a porno, there are laws against that!" He called after John Henry.

"So is promising an actress a part so you could kiss her."

"I didn't kiss you!"

"We'll see."

John Henry glared. "But it's audition day and we need a Charlie Dixon!" He wandered away.

At the name John turned back to Cameron, who had a suddenly innocent look on her face. "Does your head hurt John?" She reached out and pushed up his limp feathered lock of hair on his forehead.

"Woaho, Nurse Ratchet, what the hell is the retard talking about?" He asked suspiciously.

"Um, nothing." She sounded so innocent she was clearly guilty … of something.

"Wait, why is mom in this …?" John suddenly stopped.

"I'm sorry?" A machine faking a hearing problem was a dead giveaway.

John looked like a blood hound a mile from the escaped convict. "Cameron, why was Weaver spouting off stuff about Nebraska?" He folded his arms.

"Improvisation?"

Suddenly John took the horn out of her hand and looked inside it thoroughly. "Where is it, Cam?" He demanded throwing her horn on the ground.

"Where's … what?" She kept the company line even when John pulled her toward him and began to pat her down.

John just snorted at her. "Don't play dumb with me, I've known you too long." He brushed his hand across her bare lower back for something stuffed in the back of her Hip huggers.

He broke apart from her. "Where's the script?"

"What script?" She tilted her head.

There was a silent battle of wills, a moment of an intense stare down as one man tried to read the fortress of secrets that was the world's first self-aware machine. Experience of years was working for and against the other, trying to figure out what the other was hiding.

"Darth Vader!" Suddenly John sprinted for the kitchen.

"No, John!" Cameron took off after him.

CRASH!

"Ah! Cam, get off me!"

THUD!

"John, you can't possibly hold me like this for long."

"I don't need too!"

CLINK!

"Give it back, John!"

Suddenly the twenty four year old ran out of the kitchen with a Sith Lord's helmet under his arm and made for their room. Cameron appeared a second later passing a pizza man and John Henry. Two whooshes and a door slam later, the machine turned back to the pizza guy who was staring at the inappropriate looking Yosemite Sam talking to him.

"Don't worry about them … we're making a porno." He explained.

"Right …" The man responded.

"John! John give it back, John!"

Suddenly, the door was thrown open and John stalked back into the living room with a rolled up booklet, Cameron on his heels.

"You wrote a porno about Nebraska and our first meeting!"

"Sort of …"

"This is what Weaver was auditioning with!"

"No …"

"Really?"

"Yes "

John cracked open the booklet and cleared his throat, finding his reading voice. "Fade to black, title card, cut to inside, early morning, John's Bedroom, Sarah sits on the edge of his bed, She stares with love, devotion … and interest. John is having an arousing dream, and is showing threw his night pants. Sarah stares at the bulge and can't help but stroke it gently!" He shut the booklet.

Cameron was quiet for a moment. "So that's not correct?" she tilted her head.

"Have you ever seen mom, give me a handjob?" He yelled.

"Has she?"

"I don't get morning erections!"

"You use too."

"How did … you watched my … ?"

"In my defense, you weren't being very discrete in hiding it …"

John was about to responded when he thought better, and sighed, putting his hands up tiredly. "You know what … its way too early in the morning to leap through the dark side of our friendship." He rubbed his temple.

Cameron nodded. "You've grown in centimeters since then." She smiled comfortingly.

Whatever peace they had was soon shattered. "WhaaAT!" Snapped his head. "You've been measuring my …" He looked down.

"Yes, since the day we met." She confirmed in confusion.

John stopped mid explosion, turning, he cleared his throat and went red. All in the room turned slowly to the pizza guy with a stack of boxes, flicking blue eyes back and forth between John and Cameron.

"Ummm … special delivery, Italian Sausage?"

"Please tell me you're talking about the pizza?"

"Yes …"

John looked like he could crawl in a hole and die at the way the stranger was looking between the two of them with clear and complete judgment.

"How much"

"Sixty-nine …"

"Here" John didn't let him finish handing him a hundred dollar bill. "Get out." He pushed him out the door and closed the door behind him.

"Cam, People are gonna think we actually did something like that, I mean they talk enough as it is." He rubbed his temple tiredly; knowing arguing with Cameron Phillips was like racing a carousel.

"Sarah did watch you sleep and between the six and eight am hours was when you were hard …"

"Alright!" John cut her off.

Cameron looked down at her script. "I frankly don't see anything wrong with it." She shrugged.

"What part of this whole conversation doesn't seem wrong with you?" He shook his head.

Then Cameron got a truly perplexed look. "Well, John Henry and Catherine Weaver make out all the time." She looked back at John hopefully.

"Cam, one, they're not related. Two, we're talking about a liquid metal machine who killed an entire half population of a town and an idiot who thought he was attracted to goats because he likes petting zoos and the smell of Greek food … these aren't paragons of the mother and child relationship." He explained with a flat tone and irritated look.

"This is true." John Henry chimed in. "I was interested in goats … till this one sheep named Shelly ate a piece of my shirt. Then I was disappointed because I liked my shirt, that's when I realized my attachment to nice clothes is why I'm gay." He nodded, as if he was giving advice.

"Dude, you're not gay!" John snapped.

"How come?" The machine shot back.

"Cause you make out with your mom!"

"So do you …"

"I didn't kiss her!"

"Plus, if I'm not gay, how come the pizza guy gave me his number?"

"It's the restaurant number … I'm sure he gives it to everyone." Cameron chimed in.

"What a whore … wait, pizza, whore …" He stopped and turned to Cameron, who suddenly also got a telling look on her face.

"Screenplay" Both said and began walking toward John and Cameron's room.

Glaring at the complete circle they're argument just made, John didn't pursue. "Hey, if you look at porn on my computer, and give it viruses, I'm going to kill you!" He called after the Cybernetic siblings. "And Weaver is not hired!" He called again.

Cameron stuck her head back through the door. "Oh, John we have a meeting at seven o'clock at The Plateau … I picked out your suit." She said completely ignoring his commands.

The man crossed his arms. "Meeting? With who?" John asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Me …" She deadpanned.

John frowned. "You?" Confusion laced in his voice.

"Yes … Me." The cyborg confirmed.

John looked down a moment. "Wait …" He looked up. "This isn't like that time we showed you Lord of the Rings, and you programed a second personality for two days, is it?" He asked suspiciously.

Cameron just stared.

"Cause if remember correctly, you had an argument with yourself, dragged me into Mom and Derek's room, shut off all the lights, and stroked my hair for an entire evening calling me precious, while I watched TV."

He continued to receive a blank stare in retort.

"I would also point out that was when mom peppered you with the shotgun, and my hair still hasn't grown back right since …"

"Sharp at seven, John." She closed the door.

He sighed. "It's also why we can't go back to the jewelry store to return mom's ring." He added with a shake of his head.

When he turned he found Sarah Connor standing in front of him in a white satin corset and matching panties with bows on her hips.

"You wanna fool around a little." Weaver jinked her jaw and wiggled her eyebrows.

John just stared. "I'm gonna go lay down … in the gun closet." He sighed tiredly and walked away.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong>

_**So, I personally thought it was very obvious that it wasn't Sarah from the beginning of the chapter, and I put out little hints throughout the exchange. Like I've said from the outset of the this story I write this for me. This is my own personal brand of (Twisted) Humor and while there won't be more of the same with the John and Sarah stuff, if this chapter bothers you … you need to realize that if you watch a sitcom such as "Arrested Devolvement" or "Always Sunny in Philadelphia" you will find this humor is tame compared to others involving the weirdness of a close family. **_

_**As I've said above I didn't like this chapter, it was in developmental hell for a while, since at least before Christmas. I slowly pieced this bad boy together over time, No thanks to Kaotic who pressed me to get it done for two months while giving no help because "I'm not funny" So thanks buddy. -_- **_

_**Meanwhile I think the next two chapters will appeal more to the general audience because the humor is pretty good, Yes I chuckle at my own jokes (Which is why I call it my self-Amusing BS) **_

_**Finally as always I'm open to critical response but I will ask you to think about this … this is a story meant to make people laugh, and while I strive to keep the characters in character, this is by no mean meant to be taken overly serious. (Which is why I don't have a beta) **_

_**So if you've thought about that and still strive to make your complaints heard, feel free to leave it in the review where I will quirk an eyebrow and tug on my non-existent beard in thought. **_


	5. The Casting Process, Part II

John Connor looked on the leaf covered autumn streets of 1914 Paris sitting on an outside table of some little chateau café near one of the bridges that connected the city together. The lock of hair hanging limply on his forehead fluttered in and out of his eyes with the leaves in the cool breeze as he drank some sparkling wine cooler with some grape soda to cut out some of the mild kick of the liquid.

There was a smile on his lips as he quirked an eyebrow at the sound of a singing gondola rower as his boat passed under the bridge, he watched the jolly older man cackle and tip his hat to the ex-soldier as he rowed by, continuing to sing some obnoxiously loud Italian love song as he went on his way.

"You're supposed to be in Venice!" he called after him, as he disappeared around a bend. Just as John was chuckling to himself the chateau door opened and a man in a pressed tuxedo, bar mustache, and a towel draped over a tucked in elbow came toward him. On the classic waiter's fingertips, he balanced a metallic tray with breadsticks neatly arranged in a basket.

"Please monsieur, he can't hear you." The Frenchmen set the breadsticks down with a soft fluff of paper shreds surrounding the cloth covered bakery goods and dug out a grooming brush.

John snorted and gave an amused smile to himself. "Yeah I know that … it's a hologram." He drank some of his wine cooler soda.

"Then, don't cock up the illusion for the rest the customers." A Brooklyn accent suddenly replaced the French.

"Excuse … Hey!" John scooted away from the waiter who was dusting his brown button down leather jacket off with his brush. His raised voice interrupted the rest of period dressed couples, causing them to look their way. Not seeing the need to extend himself after the youth, the waiter retracted his brush and placed it back into his apron. "Don't worry monsieur, it's on the house. _**Where obviously you've been all day**__." _

"What?"

"I'll be back with your menus, monsieur." The waiter disappeared back into the chateau.

John grunted under his breath and went back to the view of Paris in autumn, the Eiffel tower, the galleria, the picture of Lady Gaga in a Kimono eating puffer fish with her autograph scribbled on it that some French artist in black slacks, suspenders, and a red beret was pretending to paint.

There was a preferred dress code for the restaurant "Somewhere in Time" but it wasn't required mostly because John felt a bit ridiculous in the suit they gave him to wear with the brown bowler hat, matching vest, jacket, and tie.

John really didn't want to come here, though the concept of the restaurant changing time periods everyday was appealing, but he couldn't put it off forever when Cameron put her mind to something like this. He knew the minute that she said they had a "Meeting" with someone that this was where it was going eventually be.

"The Plateau … yeah right." John snorted. If there was one place they wouldn't be allowed back it was that restaurant. But then when Sarah Connor's old acting school friend who thinks her star status is so high that she can get away with calling John Scruffy and flea bitten. Could anyone really blame Cameron for finding other ways to use the fondue fountain? Neither could John.

Just then the sound of the door opened, this time the man ignored it, observing the attention to detail of the Tower looking over the old buildings of pre-war Paris. He listened to the ambient noises of old horse drawn carriages on cobble stone, and the honk of buggy horns off in the distant. He had to admit the speakers system was great, and the echo in the room was pitch perfect and realistic.

"John?"

Hearing his name in a monotone voice, the rugged young man turned in his seat to find a girl standing in front of him. Her skin was shining in the bright light that was supposed to be the sun, peachy, and smooth. Her ringlets of dark hair fluttered, anchored by a very proper lady like sun hat. The dress that was fit over a slender ballerina's frame was made of white silk, with a lacy camisole covering her cleavage, and nylon elbow length white opera gloves where on both hands.

"How do I look?" Brown eyes seemed innocent and childlike.

"Umm … wow, Cam ..."

"Do I look fat?"

"No … still good." He shook his head completely hypnotized by the girl.

"Good" She turned her head slightly and gave the slightest of smiles that one could just miss.

Before he knew it, John scrabbled up awkwardly and caught up with his feet when he was standing right next to the tucked in chair. Cameron watched him blankly as he stood there a moment not knowing what he was going to do in the first place.

"Oh …" He reacted again without knowing it, pulling Cameron's chair out for her. She smiled gently at the action and curtseyed for him.

"Thank you for explaining."

John was caught off guard by the curtsy and felt stupid as he lingered behind Cameron after she sat down with regal grace, one leg crossed over the other, there was a mostly confused frown left on his face.

"John?"

"Oh … heh, right."

John pushed on the chair, normally …

It didn't move.

"Problems?"

"Nope" John grunted, forgetting that Cameron wasn't a normal girl, and doing simple tasks like pushing her chair in for her was like trying to push Derek's truck out of the mud, when his mother thought she knew a short cut from the movies that one terrible trip to Georgia right after their reunion.

"Are you okay, John?"

"Oh yeah." John tried to clear his throat to cover the high octave, as he bent his knees, hit his lip, and ignored the small vein popping up on his forehead going back to back. When the chair scrapped loudly in the effort to move an inch, people turned back to him, once again.

"I can scoot …"

"No, no … I can do it."

John removed his jacket, cracked his back and pushed again to no effect. Trying to find leverage as he strained, he shoved with his shoulder, and placed a boot awkwardly on a chateau column for an anchor. Slowly but surely she was in place.

However in the falling action the foam column gave way and John fell with a thump, a dust cloud lingering above him.

"John …?"

"Don't you move!" He called from the floor when he saw Cameron's momentum to leave her seat. The Cyborg tightened her cheek in confusion at the command.

"I don't understand?" She quirked her head to the side.

John grunted miserably. "My back will not have died in vain, so that you can simply get out of that chair, and squander my brave sacrifice." He got on all fours.

"I could've scooted, John."

"Cam …"

"Yes"

"Don't take this away from me."

"Oh … in that case you're a gentleman and a scholar."

"H'Thank you m'lady." John grunted and got to his feet, popping his back. He looked down at his blue long sleeve and jeans, finding leaves stuck to them, with a white powder stains up to his left ankle.

Just then the door to the kitchen opened and the French waiter waltzed out and walked passed John not noticing the soldier, as he seemed to take a certain interest in Cameron. It wasn't hard to be struck by her appearance and her impeccable knack for knowing how to style any fashion she seemed to pick. Sometimes John thought he created a monster when he let her have a smart phone, allowing her access to any information she wanted at any time day or night. Sometimes in his dreams he's storming the Ramparts of The Skynet backed Gray Maharaja Mowgli Rao's fortress in the jungles of India to the sound of Angry Birds … which he wakes up to realize Cameron is playing with the phone proped on the side of his face while he pillowed her stomach.

The waiter placed the menus on the table. "You're very stunning madam, may I say zat you are why we opened zis restaurant in ze first place … to have zuch beautah from the pazt return to glory." He clapped his hands.

Cameron tilted her head with charm. "Thank you." She opened a smile that left the man speechless. He backed away from the girl, bumping into John who he had forgotten was standing there, the young man glared at the waiter and his over flaunting over his dining partner.

"Oh …" the frenchmen sniffed upon noticing John again, picking off a leaf on his sleeve carefully, not to get anything on himself. "I see you've had yourself an interesting two minutez since I was gone." He lifted in eyebrow.

"Quite" John replied shortly.

"You seem to need ze grooming brush again, no?"

"Still on the house?"

"Five dollar"

"I think I can manage, without."

"I'm so sure." He gave John a disdainful once over, before he whipped passed him and back through the kitchen door.

When he was gone, John snorted with a shake of his head. "You know what's worse than a snooty French waiter?" He asked Cameron.

"A menu without Pizza."

"No, a … wait, why would you think they're gonna have pizza in 1914 France?"

The girl looked up at John. "I saw the Gondola driver, he was singing Italian." She explained.

John frowned with a smile. "Cam, the only thing Italian about this place is our waiter, and he's from Brooklyn." He chuckled.

Cameron tightened her cheek. "Do you think he'll know how to make a peperoni with extra sauce?" She asked hopefully. John just sighed and kissed her hand in a gentlemen like fashion.

"I wouldn't ask him." He said with a grin, before beginning to walking away.

There was an uncomfortable shift that Cameron gave. "Where are you going?" She called.

John turned back. "Don't worry, I'll be back … I'm just going to clean this off." He called back to her.

"You look better dirty." She said in deadpan honesty.

The officer laughed at her endearingly. "I'm glad you think so …" He lifted his leg toward her. "But it looks like I shoved my boot up one of the city of Miami's nostrils." He turned away again.

"But I don't know what to order."

"I don't know … surprise me!" He called out across the restaurant. Sometimes he got lost in Cameron and his little world. She more often than not made him feel shameless, and looser around people than he used too. She was good for him sometimes.

"Surprise" Cameron said to herself, and began to quietly flip through the menu, scanning the contents and the French specials, with interest in her new mission. Suddenly John's hand pulled down the menu.

"That could've been a rookie mistake." He made a harried sigh with a shake of his head.

"You said surprise you?" She frowned.

Her companion chuckled. "Yeah, that's a mistake that doesn't happen twice." He muttered, giving a quick scan of the menu himself.

"You know what?"

"No, tell me."

John frowned at her response. "Just get me a steak, well done."

"I haven't order it yet."

With a double take he screwed up his face. "Yeah I know … when the waiter comes back, tell him a steak, well done." He nodded.

"But you don't like him … have you changed your opinion?"

"No, He's a douchebag … but if you don't tell him the order, we're not going to eat."

"I understand."

"Good, so a steak … well done."

This time Cameron glared at him with displeasure. With a clear of his throat John stepped back defensively.

"Alright …" He raised his hands.

Cameron, closed the menu. "You want a steak." She concluded.

"Well done." He concluded.

Cameron's glare got deeper. "There's no need to be sarcastic, John." She tightened her cheek, flipping her gaze from him.

John glared in confusion, shaking his head, throwing his arms out oblivious of what she was getting upset over. With an irritated scoff, he walked away from her.

Cameron sat motionless, observing other patrons and guests till the kitchen door squeaked and the waiter returned with a glass of grape juice, under the impression she was underage. Which to be honest either way he was right. Though she looked only seventeen, in reality she was only eight.

"Zis is for you, madam, complements, of me." He winked at Cameron.

The girl tightened her cheek. "Before you take my order, my companion has asked me tell you, despite you being a Douchebag, and being greatly offended by your service up till this point … well done." She concluded with a nod.

The waiter cleared his throat in anger. "Zis is true?" he chewed his inner cheek.

"Yes, he told me three times, himself." She nodded again. "He's other being very generous, or sarcastic." She frowned pensively.

"I can only imagine." The Frenchman tapped his pen against his pad in short temper.

After a moment Cameron spoke. "That being said I would like two steaks." She flicked golden flecked brown eyes to his pad.

Irritably he wrote the order down. "Rare?" He asked.

Cameron frowned in confusion.

"Why, is there something wrong with them?"

* * *

><p>John stood watching Cameron talk to the waiter from the other side of the restaurant. In all honesty it made him feel a bit nervous and guilty to leave her alone. With her return from the future Cameron had been in remedial human 101 since John Henry leached her database adhering to the basic social understandings, the trade out was somewhat worth it for Cameron to better understand the nuances of emotions and implement them in situations.<p>

John Connor might call John Henry a kidnapper, thief, and a retard, but he was a good teacher in instructing the cybernetic girl with the mind the size of Skynet how to control urges, and enjoy them.

With a hopeful smirk he was going to clean up, come back and wait for whoever it is they were meeting here, with Cameron. That was the plan, and nothing was going to screw it …

"Christ!"

John had turned to walk into the lobby were the bathroom and changing area for the costumes were when he turned to find a woman, beautiful and regal, with long flowing, golden blond waves, pinned back . Her bright green eyes looked hardened, and she wore a strange red silk kimono dresses with the long sleeves trimmed in gold.

John gave her a once over and sighed angrily. "No, Weaver!" he gritted his teeth. The beautiful woman glared darkly and opened her mouth.

"Nope, I don't wanna hear it, okay!" He made a fist of frustration. "You cannot change her hair color, make her look younger, and … make her look like a painted Japanese whore?" he grimaced at her dress in confusion.

"Painted whore?" She sounded outraged .

"I told you once, I told you a thousand times, you cannot be mom, in the movie. Change her appearance completely. Also I don't care if you think I kissed you or not … this" He motioned to her overall appearance. "Is not happening." John moved her aside and stalked off.

The woman looked spiteful as he left.

Navigating his way through the tables, John was shaking his head at the machine who was surprising him every other place he goes trying to change up his mother's appearance in order to please him. Yesterday she was a red headed florist, the other she was a dark haired queen from Greece … (He really didn't get that one.) now it was this.

Passing by he gave a greeting nod to Derek as he went by, sighing he wondered if they had any high duty paper towels to get out the powder from the set prop column, Cameron had been studying set design on the computer and he knew from their bed conversations just what the stuff were made … of …

Wait?

John paused and backed up, not noticing how ridiculous he looked not turning around to make his way back. His mouth was open when he stopped three tables back staring at the couple at the small two person table near the bar.

The patrons stopped talking and stared back at the young man who was watching them, blankly, starting to feel like Cameron.

"Can I help you?"

Derek Reese looked cross with his nephew, who was going back and forth between them so many times it was starting to make everyone feel a bit strange at the table, as well as a few people at the bar.

"Derek …" John blinked hard and shook his head.

"It took you that long?"

"No, Just trying to catch up."

"Yeah, well, do it somewhere …"

John turned his head to his dinner companion, in the period correct lacy loose dress, blond ringlets, and a white bow in her hair. She had an attractive face, with blue eyes of pure kindness. It was a deep contrast to Derek's long sleeve and jeans that seemed eerily similar to John. But Despite Derek's gruff nature toward the other veteran, his date seemed to smile with amused humor.

"Michelle … I mean Mrs. …?"

"It's back to Ms. Hobbs … I dropped the Dixon." The former Michelle Dixon placed her cheek on an upraised knuckle and tiled her head. "Hey John." She chuckled warmly.

"Hey … Umm." John turned back to Derek who looked sorely unhappy at this point. Though he wasn't sure if it was that he had been caught with his rival's ex or if John was ruining the good time they seemed to be having.

"I didn't know you came here." The youth motioned to the early twentieth century dressed people around them in the twenty first century setting of the bar area.

"Ditto …" He grumbled. John glared at his abrasive comment.

Michelle however studied John a moment with a confused quirk of her eyebrow. "What happened to you?" Her voice had a maternal twinge to it, that John honestly never heard directed at him before. His mother being a negative six on the Mrs. Cleaver scale.

"Ummm …" John's brain was stalled still trying to get used to the two of them together along with trying to cover his embarrassing attempt to be a gentlemen. "Got into a rumble with some dry wall." It was all he could think of.

The older man looked up at his family member with a bullshit look on his face. "Oh yeah?" He challenged flatly. "how was that?" he asked focusing his attention on his nephew.

John always felt a bit uncomfortable under the scrutinizing glare of his uncle's soulful hazel eyes. But it didn't stop his mouth. "About what I expected … you know how they are." He shrugged. "Especially in this part of town."

"That bad." Michelle played along.

"I blame the schools." He sighed.

Michelle laughed out loud at the joke and when Derek scowled she pushed him from across the table till he gave a rueful smile at the joke.

"So I'm clearly interrupting something."

"Clearly" Derek parroted.

"It's alright, if you wanna join us?" She offered but John put his hands up defensively.

"Oh no …" He backed away. "I've got to wash this off fast … I left Cameron alone … and who knows what can happen to her in a god forsaken place like this?" he joked making Michelle smile one last time.

"Or more like who she's gonna happen too." Derek corrected which John glared, turning to leave.

Entering the men's bathroom he thought about Michelle and Derek. The truth was that it was hard for him to take. It seemed childish, a past feeling from another life, from another John. Even now after all the battles, wounds, off angled fingers, in his heart of hearts he still wanted a complete family. A mother, some sort of father. Charlie always told him that he was willing to take the job, but after everything he had been through, with Derek and Kyle, that door closed when the plasma bolts started flying. John had closed himself off to anyone who wasn't blood. Maybe that was his fault and not Charlie's, but it was what it was.

Seeing Derek with Michelle, and his mom with Charlie, he felt alone. Maybe it was just part of growing up he guessed, but still he missed them. He didn't want to see them making out on the couch, but that arm around his mother's waist, the way she liked to lean back against his shoulder when they were standing together somewhere. She had felt safe, she didn't need to look back over her shoulder knowing he was there to back her up both literally and figuratively.

Maybe that was why he was as close to Cameron as he was these days. His mom wouldn't mind having him around all the time if she had her way, but her and Charlie's life wasn't his. she didn't know what he had been through. Derek was a good guy to be around, but sometimes he got in strange moods, quiet, spaced out, and John knew how he felt, and that he needed his space. Cameron however knew his life, unlike Sarah. When John would have flash forwards she would sit with him, without a word for several days, Cameron was his rock.

If he could, he would live this way forever … he could he guessed. But then he thought about the things his mother had said to him. Cameron was a crutch, a place to hide from moving on with his life. The way she would talk about the cyborg, John swore that Sarah thought the girl was an anchor, or worse a toy that John was too old to be playing with.

That was the last conversation that John had with his mother. He threw her out of his apartment, told her that she wasn't welcome anymore. It had been Charlie's idea for her to come over and confront him with what she thought was his stagnant life. It was just one more thing on the shit list.

John suddenly got the urge to see Cameron, and it made him feel uncomfortable. Was she really just a crutch? Maybe he was hiding from a bright new future full of possibilities …

He crumbled the whitened paper towel and walked out of the bathroom, hesitantly not knowing where he should go, it felt like suddenly forgetting how to do a mild task. He stopped and stared a moment at someone waiting outside for him.

"Oh my god, WHAT?"

Trying to wrestle with this isolationism theory of his attachment to Cameron was forgotten when confronted once again with a long golden haired Sarah in Red silk and gold lace. John was getting tired of this game, he had to talk to Cameron about the casting.

"We need to talk …" Her glare was chillingly lifelike, and so was that rigid posture.

There was no denying that he wanted to pull his hair out over this. "Look, we rubbed noses, we might, a big might, have brushed lips. But we're through with this!" He brushed passed her.

He decided to avoid the bar, and go the long way around. When he got back to the table, a blond woman was talking to Cameron. She wore a black satin corset holding back a bust that had so much silicone it was dangerous at high velocity. She had on a frilly skirt, and a black choker, a Can-Can dancer costume.

John took his seat next to Cameron. But she didn't looking up from her conversation.

"You'd be paid well, and have full health insurance"

"Oh that's great … usually, most of the time, they just have health screenings."

"We can vouch for our actors, having no Sexually transmitted diseases."

"Can we, some of them are viruses on their own?" John glared, looking back at the golden haired woman watching them from the lobby before disappearing.

Finally Cameron and her guest acknowledged John's presence. "Cammy, this is John, a producer, and co-writer. The movie is an adaption of his life." She added introducing him with a pleasant business smile.

John shook the woman's hand. "It's loose." He cleared his throat.

The attractive blond gushed, "Eddy say's I can relate!" She shrugged with a bubbly bounce.

John frowned and turned back to Cameron. "Eddy?" he looked puzzled.

"Oh!" She tapped her head. "My dad …" She smiled, eating a piece of a breadstick.

"So your dad, said that?"

"Yeah, Eddy!"

"Who is your father?"

"Yes and no …"

John and Cameron exchanged a look, before going back to the girl. "Which one is it?" He asked, Cameron tilting her head.

The girl gave a light sigh. "Eddy is my dad, but he told me if I went out with Enrique our pool boy, he wasn't my father … so I was like "God, whatever, if you remarry that skank than I'm not your daughter anymore." And he was like "You can't call your mother that." And I was all like "Watch me" and I wrote skank on her bathroom mirror with Enrique's lipstick." She giggled.

Cameron frowned. "So you ran away with the pool boy Enrique who has lipstick, because you wrote on your step-mother's bathroom mirror?" She asked with a confused tighten of her cheek.

"Oh no she's not my step-mom."

"So you wrote Skank on your mom's mirror?" John asked.

"God, she was such a hoe bag … she's totally like "Enrique is gay, he wears lipstick." And I was like "Gawd why are you so judgmental, you're like Judge Judy … except a lot older." I mean she's probably pissed because he stole her panties and wore them that one time, I mean she's got a jillion of them anyway. She should be like me, and wear them to like formal occasions and junk ..." She tore off another piece of bread, but paused. "BTW how many calories are these?" She asked.

John cleared his throat. "I'm going to take a stab and guess you're auditioning for a role in the movie." He folded his arms across his chest.

The girl scrunched her shoulders. "Is that obvious?" She asked with a charming grin.

John returned it. "I'd say so …" he nodded.

"Really?"

"The Daddy issues are a dead give-away."

"It's Eddy …"

"I rest my case." He nodded. "Sidebar" John leaned in to Cameron. "This was the meeting you had planned." He asked as the girl sniffed the bread.

The cyborg shifted confused eyes from Cammy "she's a very highly sought after actress" She tilted her head closer to John.

John twitched an eyebrow, and then both turned back to their guest, who was using John's abandoned wine cooler glass as a mirror. Using her tongue to clean a front tooth, and adjust her bust.

"Really?" He look puzzled when he turned back to Cameron.

Cameron frowned. "She's been over three hundred productions. She has a rabid fan base … if we land her, our movie will be very successful." The tone in her voice was hopeful.

"I guess that's good." He was unsure.

Cameron continued. "She even has her own line of toys … see brought me one that looks like the Sarlac Pit from Star Wars." The cyborg was reaching for something under the table, when John saw what it was.

"Cam!" John grabbed her hand to stop her from bring it out, looking around to make sure no one saw whatever was in Cameron's hand.

"John?" She frowned.

"Cam, why did she bring you something like that?" He asked a little harsher than he had meant too.

"She asked if I collected toys, and I said I had nice _rack of busts_ at home … She said I would love this then." John was face palming at the miscommunications when the girl attempted to show it to him. John stuffed it back into the girl's lap.

"It's very detailed … you know?" The Actress offered.

"H'okay …" John smiled and snapped back to his partner. "What did you tell her?" He hissed.

Cameron seemed lost at his attitude. "That I collected toys, and that you like to watch me "fiddle" with them." She looked so innocent, it was hard to put into words the limbo his pride and anger was in. When he found the woman again, she gave him a sultry wink.

He turned his head biting down embarrassment that he somehow could always count on when Cameron didn't understand something. If he didn't need her so much, he might have destroyed her already. He wanted to be bitter, but the trust in those eyes made him take a deep controlling sigh, a hand threading her hair endearingly. That's when he saw the blond woman in the red silk standing in the lobby again staring at them darkly.

"Cam … why is Weaver creepily staring at us, like she's going to have our … my spleen for breakfast?" He asked. Cameron frowned at John.

"Weaver isn't here, it's date night." She looked puzzled.

"Date Night?"

"Yes, She and John Henry go out and watch the Robinsons …" She confirmed.

"The Robinsons? Is that a TV show …?"

"No, it's James Ellison's next door neighbors … they say it's better than reality TV … their daughter, Abby is pregnant with Allen's baby … which means that they have to keep their interactions in the School hallways brief or he could get fired."

"…"

"Theirs is a secret love."

John just shook his head with a sigh, which was his usual reaction to Cameron's weird adopted cyborg family. John still found his new golden haired mother staring at them with a dark glare.

"Then who's tha …" John paused "Oh shit."

Cameron followed his vision. "I didn't know Sarah's here."

"We've got to move." He sighed.

His companion glared. "We're in the middle of the interview." She said.

"What are we going to tell mom when she gets here?" He rounded on her. "This is Cammy, we're interviewing her for our porno movie?" He sounded almost frantic, turning back to find Sarah subtly debating with herself back at the lobby how to approach them.

"You know the hotty in the red?" Cammy caught their attention again. "If she's in the movie, I'd consider a bondage scene with her … I bet she orgasms like a song bird." She winked at Sarah, who frowned at her in confusion from a distance, moving further back uncomfortably till she was out of sight.

There was a long pause as the two stared at the adult actress. "Maybe we could go to the bar?" Cameron said in agreement with his previous statement.

"How bout we go to the bar? Get a drink?" John offered to Cammy.

"Now we're on the same language!" She perked up at the mention of alcohol. Before John and Cameron could get out their chair's she was half way out the other door. "Let's get silly bitches!" she called out to the two of them.

John and Cameron frowned.

Walking quickly, the cyborg followed their actress, while John kept a look out to make sure Sarah wasn't following, pulling on his jacket. The last thing he wanted to do was have a confrontation with her in front of everyone. He also didn't want to have a conversation with her over their present activities especially when they didn't exactly have a backstory to go with it, past filming a documentary on … things.

"Bar tender shots for me and my employers!" Cammy announced when entering the room. John sighed heavily again, and Cameron glared.

"We haven't hired you, yet." She corrected.

The big breasted woman put her arm around the girl. "After tonight, you're going to be saying different "Downtown Abbey!" She whooped, grabbing Cameron's elegant hat and throwing it across the bar. Cameron looked to John in confusion to which he just shrugged, as the older woman ushered Cameron to the bar.

John was making sure Sarah wasn't coming, when he saw someone approaching, at first he was scared, thinking that she had tracked them down. But luckily it wasn't anyone important, a man in John's suit in fact, brown bowler hat, vest, pants. The old era clothing actually fit his lined … hard face … and Knitted eyebrows. SHIT!

John rushed back to the bar where Cammy and Cameron both had in hand red tinted shot glasses filled to the brim. Cammy having two in hand.

"One for my Homies …" She poured the tequila on her cleavage. "One for momma!" She sucked it down, slamming it on the counter. "HELL YEA!" She whooped. She turned to Cameron. "Come on Gurl, you're up!" She slapped Cameron's back. The girl observed the glass and then took a sip.

"What's that?" The adult actress exclaimed. "Take it to the head, bitch!" She chastised with an impish giggle. Cameron frowned at the expression, lifting it as if to spill it on her head. Luckily John arrived at the last minute and took it from her.

"We got to go." He downed his partner's shot for her. "Jesus …" He coughed. "What the hell was that, Rat Poison?" He tried to rub the taste out of his mouth.

"Shit's going to make you a man." A scruffy bar tender nodded in respect to John.

He grimaced. "No, it's going to stunt growth." He hacked.

"What's going on?" Cameron asked, getting back on point.

"Charlie … he's coming!" He turned back to the man entering the bar.

Cameron looked around. "We're out of places to hide John." She watched the unwitting stepfather figure take a seat at the only Entrance/Exit to the room past jumping the railing of the platform terrace.

He flicked to a side table. "No, not yet." He grabbed her arm. "Hey, we're getting a table!" He called to their interviewee.

"Good, sounds formal!" She said, taking the bottle from the bar tender and blowing him a kiss. John grabbed a chair and placed it at an already occupied table.

"What the Hell is this!" Derek said in surprised outrage as the three began crowding around his table. John sat Cameron down to which Michelle greeted the girl with an arm rub. The one thing that Michelle Dixon could be counted on, was that she loved the eccentricity of the Connor/Reese family.

John frowned. "Umm … don't be alarmed, it's only temporary." He ducked low, turning his eyes back toward the table as Charlie watched a basketball game.

Derek looked back and forth between John and Cameron, then back to Cammy who was filling a new shot glass, then he gave Cammy's outlandish appearance another good look.

"Whatever hair-brained trouble Cameron got both of you into this time, I don't want any part of it … I just got the cast off, from the last time." He pointed to Cameron.

She looked unamused. "It's not my fault you got into a fight with a mascot at Six Flags." She replied.

John followed up in defense of his roommate. "Yeah, you're the jack-ass who called Elmer Fudd a Stuttering sack of shit …" He corrected the man.

"I'm not the one who started it!" Derek argued back.

John looked miffed. "You jacked Tweety in the face." He challenged.

"Yeah only after Cameron Hate Crimed Bugs Bunny with a mallet." He sounded angry at reliving of the less then happy nature of the family vacation.

The younger soldier stuck a defensive finger out. "She had her reasons …" He trailed off a moment. "Which were?" He suddenly turned to Cameron with a lack of memory. Her response was pensive, looking off in thought.

Michelle gave a loud laugh. "What?" She looked around the table.

Cameron addressed her. "We took a family vacation to Six Flags amusement park last summer. Derek ended up in a brawl with three Looney Toons and two Pokémon." She made it sound as if it was just a passing detail in droll conversation.

"Well Two Looney Toons and Two Pokémon … Sylvester went down pretty fast." John corrected.

"Normality is a disease in our family" Derek sighed

Cammy giggled. "You punched a pussy!" She said aloud for everyone to hear.

Derek glared "Why are you here?" He snapped at John and Cameron ignoring their friend.

John shrugged. "Turn around … No don't just shoot up prairie dog style, act causal … Now turn to your left." He directed.

Michelle's face looked hurt and Derek's got tight. "Just what we freaking need." He and his date took a draft of beer at the same time.

"Mom spotted us … we had to go." He explained.

Beer suddenly shot out from Derek's nose and onto Cammy at the mention of Sarah. The actress let out a surprised yelp. Derek recoiled. "Uh, sorry …" He said quickly, even with his hard exterior he was still the gentlemen his mother raised.

Cammy looked ready to tear him a new one, till she looked at his handsome face. "Oh …" She stopped herself. "Don't worry, this isn't the worst thing I've ever been squirted with." She winked. John and Michelle squinted and Cameron tilted her head.

Whipping his nose, Derek rounded on John and Cameron. "Sarah is on your ass, and so you come here!" He came back to the situation.

The younger soldier shrugged defensively. "We were kind of out of options, here." He struck back.

Derek rubbed his face. "What's the first rule of a cannonade?" He lectured.

"Not to bunch up." Cameron replied automatically.

Derek made a grand, one might say frantic gesture to everyone at the table. "Shrapnel soup!" He stated. Everyone turned back to the table to find Charlie and now Sarah joining him, her eyes finding them like a heat seeking missile. Unsubtly everyone snapped back all at once, avoiding her stare.

"Aw crap she's going to come over here!" John claimed.

"Great." Michelle sounded short and bitter, taking another long draft of her beer.

Cameron flicked back, to see Charlie and Sarah conversing quietly amongst each other. "She's going to have questions." She informed John. As if on cue everyone directed their attention to the adult actress, who was rubbing Derek's arm.

"You were a pitcher weren't you?" She asked with a wiggle of eyebrows.

John turned to Cameron. "Cammy is drunk as hell … Code names, we need code names just so she doesn't slip up!" finding Charlie standing.

Cammy suddenly sprang into a sentence that only confirmed John, Cameron, and Derek's worst fears. "Is this part of the interview? Because, when I was picked up off set and locked up for a month. The girls down cell block C said I was really good at charades." She was still rubbing Derek's arm, to which he scooted away.

The cyborg frowned. "You were arrested for having intercourse? I didn't know you could be arrested for that." She looked to everyone else for confirmation.

She sighed. "Yeah … apparently the state we were filming in looked down on sodomy …"

"H'okay!" John cut her off. "We need code names …" He compelled, her last statement proof enough.

"Walked into that jewel didn't we?" Michelle sighed.

Cameron looked deep in thought. "Vagina, could be Vajaja … Baby door, cunt …" She listed off.

John slammed the table. "Baby!" He announced "Baby is vagina." He pointed to the adult actress for her to grasp the concept. People at the next table over stared at them with judgment. Derek hid his face, John cleared his throat uncomfortably, and Michelle, who sadly had no idea what was going on, simply toasted them, pleasantly.

"Talk to me, Goose." John drummed his fingers nervously. Cameron looked behind them, Charlie and Sarah beginning to make their way toward them.

"They're coming." She sounded cool under pressure.

"Crap … we don't have a name for Penis …" He said under is his breath.

"French waiter?"

"Not subtle, John."

"Charlie …"

"Heh, I'm with Michelle."

"No, that'll be too confusing, got any industry nicknames for us Cammy?"

"Was it Sodomy? You know maybe it was the donkey show?"

"H'okay … Umm Cameron?"

"Uncle Derek."

"The Hell?"

"Done" John could see his mother's shadowing growing behind them.

Derek was ready to argue. "Since when?" He asked defensively.

Cameron frowned. "Have you met yourself?' She retorted blankly.

Before the argument could begin a presence made itself know to everyone at the table. Sarah looked rather lost and even a bit hurt to see them. John felt a little bad, it appeared as if they had all gone out for a night out and didn't invite her.

"Hey …" Sarah said cautiously. There was an awkward pause between everyone and Sarah. She had walked into it a bit, it would seem. Looking from face to face, there wasn't a person at the table that Sarah Connor hadn't pissed off or hurt in the last three months.

"Hello Sarah …" Cameron greeted her with a smile, while everyone else did their best to ignore her without being rude.

Even if it was Just Cameron, Sarah nodded in acknowledgment of the girl. "I guess I missed something important." She asked looking around the table.

"You sure did …" Derek muttered into his drink. Sarah's eyes flashed sorrowfully to the man she hadn't seen since she left him sleeping one morning. "Michelle …" She turned to the woman sitting next to John.

"Sarah …" She toasted, stone faced.

"Well, looks like our invite got lost." Charlie said trying to lighten the mood.

John snorted. "Never got mailed." He said under his breath. The room seemed to get a little colder.

Charlie even though a nice guy at heart, was still a man of pride. He also had never liked the way Sarah was cast out at the moment she came back to him. "I didn't catch that last one, Johnny?" he seemed a little more flippant this time around.

"It's John." The young man looked as if he was about to get out his seat to face Charlie.

"Is that a new Hairdo, Sarah?" Cameron took John's arm in an embrace to stop him.

Sarah, who had placed a restraining hand on Charlie, looked down at Cameron and seemed grateful. "Uh, yeah … I was trying a new style out for the wedd …" She trailed off, finding Derek staring at her, soulful eyes pained. "Just trying something new." She smirked roughly to mask her emotions.

"It looks, hot …" Cammy took a shot.

Sarah frowned. "I don't know you." She said, finding her entire appearance, clashing with everyone else.

"I'm here for the interview …" She slurred. "And I look forward to working …"

"School friend." John said. Sarah paused, she hadn't addressed John yet. She moved her hand to his hair, but stopped herself. It wouldn't be a welcome form of affection anymore.

"You go to school with John and Cameron?" She asked. Cammy looked around as if waiting for her cue … no one knew what she was doing. Eventually she put up one finger. Everyone said nothing, as she continued to show one finger to everyone.

"One word?" Cameron said. The actress nodded, touching her nose and pointing to Cameron. She clapped once and held a new digit. Cameron stared a long moment. "One syllable?" She played on.

"For god sake just say yes!" John grumbled.

"You got it!" She poured John a shot. "See I told you I was good at this." She exclaimed. John took the shot and grunted, trying to clear his head of the situation.

"But you know who I'm great with?" Cammy announced suddenly trying to sell herself. "Uncle Derek's" She placed an arm around the girl next to her. "I've been great with Uncle Derek's … I started my career with uncle Derek's … but you know what the problem is?" She asked Cameron.

"No?" She watched the girl pour her a shot.

"There's only so much you can do with an Uncle Derek before it just gets old, you know? Sometimes you just want to spend time with your _baby_, you know?" She sighed. "But some nights you've got that feeling that won't go away, and no matter how great or top of the line your replacement is … nothing's going to beat a real, true to form, Uncle Derek, to get what your baby needs." She sighed to her cyborg drinking companion.

Sarah who had been cautious in her approach of the situation suddenly had glassy eyes at the actress's speech. There was a look of doubt in her emerald eyes, finding the man she was going to marry sitting there alone with her child, being the father John had always needed. Charlie Dixon seemed rather pensive on the matter. Was this unnamed friend of John and Cameron right? How much longer would it be before Sarah went looking for Uncle Derek?

Cameron was blankly confused, John looked like he wanted to crawl in a hole and die, and Michelle was poorly trying to cover her laughing fit. Derek however just looked like he was going to murder someone after the speech.

"I broke up with an Uncle Derek …" Sarah blurted out, thinking she had found a kindred soul in the drunken actress.

"Get it Gurl!" Cammy whooped loudly. "Good for you … a little female time! I mean Babies are a lot more work to keep clean, but if you use enough powder and wash them right they're better company. I mean the last movie I did with an Uncle Derek, my bush was burning so bad I though God was trying to get me on a plane to Egypt." She raised her glass to Sarah.

There was a strange quiet that fell over the table after her speech. Suddenly Michelle excused herself looking to be in physical pain, stumbling away to somewhere out of ear shot to laugh hysterically. John on the other hand made a groaning noise as if he was going to be sick. Cameron placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Is there something wrong, John?" She asked.

He gave a sad laugh. "How much time do you have?" he replied.

Sarah frowned. Suspiciously, she looked over the actress then back at John and Cameron. Remembering John mentioning a movie, then observing Cammy's cleavage and artificial tan.

"John, Cameron … a word." She said with a sudden strict maternal whip, pacing to a private area.

Both "Children" shared a look. "Think she twigged?" John asked.

"A distinct possibility." The cyborg tightened her cheek. "It could've gone a lot better." She added innocently.

"Play dumb."

"Aren't we?"

John glared at the comment and motioned her to follow. Both exited the table leaving Derek, Charlie, and Cammy alone.

Cammy squinted hazy eyes at Charlie. "Has anyone ever told you, you look like an Uncle Derek with a little hat on?" She slurred.

"I think I like her." Derek smirked into his drink.

Both John and Cameron met Sarah at the bar. The woman's arms were crossed as she looked from girl to man, as if trying to figure them out before the conversation began.

"Are you Bananas?" She started off. John and Cameron exchanged a look.

"No …" John trailed off. "I'm Banana … this is my partner Strawberry." He motioned to Cameron.

"What seems to be problem, Ma'am?" Cameron asked with a dead pan voice of authority, flipping open a notepad.

Sarah looked very unimpressed at their opening, hoping to scare her son into confessing, his activities. "You think you're funny?" She asked sternly.

"Not at all … But she's hilarious."

"True, but he's better at the punch lines."

"Enough with the jokes!" She snapped at the two of them. "What are you two up to?" She asked with maternal steel.

"Well …" John looked to Cameron in mock confusion, while she tilted her head in thought.

"Two sarcastic deflections?" Cameron asked.

John shrugged. "I lost count … but at the rate you're going we might break some records." He sighed.

Sarah Connor had never been fast with the wit, not like John and Derek. Sarah was often the target of wordplay, being too slow minded to counter. It made her angry, like kids throwing popcorn at a caged animal.

"Cameron!" She addressed the girl. "What is going on?" She tried to wall John off from the conversation. But the girl turned to the young man.

"Say you don't know."

"I don't know." She parroted innocently.

She took a step forward. "Who is that at the table with Derek and Michelle?" She pushed.

"Cammy"

"Cammy" she retorted again.

"John cut it out!"

Cameron turned to John. "She said cut it out." She supplied.

"Tell her to first."

"He says you need to cut it out first."

"John Connor!"

"She said your name."

"Sarah Connor!"

"He told me to tell you, your name."

"I'm not going to sit here and be jerked around."

"She said she's not going to jerk you …"

"Good … Those kind of activities require dinner first."

"He said you have to buy him dinner first."

"Cameron that's enough!"

"Cameron, she told you to stop."

"John, Goddamnit!"

"She cursed at you."

"Cameron!"

"She said your name, Cam."

Sarah Connor was done with the two of them. "You having fun?" She bared her teeth.

John turned to Cameron. "I'm having fun." He announced to her.

Cameron turned her head slightly. "It's pleasurable." She agreed.

"We're both having fun." He shrugged easily.

There was a veiled look of hurt just under her surly exterior. "What's going on with you?" She asked quietly.

John seemed cold, collecting Cameron with his arm and tucking her to him, under arm. "Nothing … just finding more unique ways to tell you that till you grow the hell up, stay out of our business." He replied walking away from her. He tossed a stack of bills on the bar walking out of the restaurant with Cameron.

When they were outside, Cameron looked up. "John?" She asked gently. He looked lost, his breath misting in cold pacific night.

"Yeah …" he seemed lost.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

John looked down at her, he looked conflicted. When he was in "Somewhere in Time" all he wanted to do was avoid his mother, he didn't want to mock her. But something in their relationship had changed and when he saw her … all he did was feel angry. It was her unwillingness to see things have changed, that he's changed … for the worst. He wasn't the kid she knew anymore, but she didn't see that, anything new she finds is him being impossible, or immature. The world had changed for him and she was standing still.

"I'm sorry, Cameron …" He sighed. "I uh … forgot you were in the middle of an interview." He shook his head in shame. "You should probably go back in there … I'll see you at home." He let go of her. But Cameron just blinked at him, studying sad eyes for a beat, before returning to his side.

"We'll call her." She smiled softly, wrapping an arm around his waist, platonically. John snorted a white haze and wrapped an arm around her shoulder again and brought her closer.

He hadn't noticed that she was still wearing the costume, causing stares down the street.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong>

_**Like I said, this story has no release date ... it pretty much gets written when I feel it in me. Been going through a hard time lately so I haven't felt good enough to go for this story, but I finally did here recently. **_

_**Alot reboots to old stories going on, alot of new things on the horizon so stay tuned for that ... **_

_**As usual this is self-edited so if there's a mistake don't hesitate to keep it to yourself. **_


	6. Interlude: Jurassic Trailer Park

Out of all the ways this could've gone wrong, to say the least this was not even how she imagined things going wrong. Over and over again Sarah Connor kept thinking this as she tried to twist her head, fighting the blind fold over her eyes. She listened to the sound of a loud television and even louder acoustic music coming from the living room. Somehow she'd never understand how every redneck idiot thought he could play guitar, and somehow needed to play it loud enough for everyone to hear it. In normal circumstances, she'd understand that they might need enough noise to drown out her cries for help … normal being relative in terms of being stripped to your bra and panties, and hands tied to a bed post.

She had been chasing leads all week about a heist gone wrong. Industrial espionage operation turned south. A couple of crooks broke into STAR Labs and took something that didn't belong to them, something cybernetic. She had drove north, after taking one of John's fake law enforcement badges he kept in the Mustang glove compartment and decided to interrogate the robbers that were in a Podunk town's sheriff's office. A couple of good cracks to the jaw and one good pay off for the deputies to look the other way and the cherry amongst the two of them, told her where they dumped the machine.

But she was of the opinion as per-usual if you asked John and Derek that she was not to fault for the way things turned out. How was she supposed to know that there was a Survivalist's colony right in the woods where the package was dumped, or that they'd be better armed than her? All she knew was that she at least sent out the emergency signal before they got her. That and she was now part of "the family". Sarah had heard of a shotgun wedding, but it usually didn't involve a thick bearded prospector looking hick pointing one to get her to say I do to his grandson.

Not wanting to wait around to consummate their magic day, Sarah tested the restraints. Automatically she found that she wasn't dealing with idiots, which she guessed was a bad thing. The cords were metallic and were bungee like, perfect bondage wire. She could move her arms, but with a restrained momentum it just pulled them back. She figured that she had at least thirty minutes left to get out of her new husband's letter to Penthouse before they all came thumping in for the show. She pulled down her right arm with all her might and bit with just crooked pearl teeth on the restraints. She tugged her head back and forth trying to loosen them.

It was hard to tell what was going on with all the noise from the hyped up kids running around screaming and the drunken rendition of "I know what boy's like" from the front porch. But right now the priority was to get out of the restraints and off this itchy bed that felt and smelled infested with bed insects of some sort.

"Caught you a right pretty one didn't we?" She stopped what she was doing at the voice in what had to be the doorway.

"But Grandpappy, I don't think I'm'a ready to get tied down."

SMACK!

"It's time you become a man, boy, and this one is gonna show you what it's all about ain't yea, pretty?"

Sarah didn't respond. All she had to do was hear the gist of the conversation to get that she should've checked the missing person's posts for the county. If she had, she might have known that these people probably kidnapped passersby to keep the commune going. She clenched her teeth and waited. At the moment, she had the leverage of being the only idiot in two hundred miles to come around these parts. This meant they weren't going to kill her any time soon or risk waiting for another woman to come along to have their backwards ass children. So when they come for her and she bites this son of bitch's ear off, she might take a small beating. But if they like their firearms as well as their bad taste in music, she might just get her hands on one in the fray.

She tensed under a large callous hand rubbing her bare stomach. Immediately, she moved her arms, ready to snatch a gun when she felt a kiss coming. "Come on, she ain't hot iron, boy, come touch her!" The old man yelled, rubbing a thumb over her navel. Sarah shuttered tenderly under the shaky hand that rubbed down to her pelvis, cautiously. Her blood boiled angrily, feeling like an animal at a petting zoo.

"Don't tell me she ain't doing something for yeah boy?"

"I … Guess."

"God's boy! Just feel that belly! Don't tell me it ain't making you feel something."

"_**You'll feel something, alright!" **_

CRASH!

"AHHHH!"

Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the demonic voice that boomed like a cannon into the room. The big figure that had been stroking her stomach like she was a domesticated animal was ripped away violently. There was the sharp noise of glass breaking and someone going through a half open window. Suddenly the bright blur behind her blindfold cut out. A silence fell like a velvet curtain over the house.

Feet burst into the bedroom to the sound of cocking rifle bolts. Sarah instinctually lied flat as she could when the deafening noise of automatic gunfire from a firing squad poured entire clips into the wall to her left. When they were done, she could feel a cold breeze cover her exposed form like an unpleasant blanket.

"Watch out, you're gonna hit daddy!"

"Ah hell … I think we did!"

There was suddenly an explosion of gunfire on the other side of the house and she heard feet flee toward it. "Stay with the slut, mama!" She heard a gruff man yell as he sprinted away. The house was quiet as the gun fire and screams echoed into the woods. She huffed, rubbing her head back and forth trying to push the blind fold away from her eyes. She suddenly felt thick meaty hands rip it off.

She met the sudden dark like a cornered wolverine. She hissed with clenched teeth, launching at her captor from the bed. A thick hand reached out and slapped her back down. The bed creaked when she landed. In her adjusting sight she found a large woman in a dirty floral dress. She had a mouth of missing teeth replaced by gold and steel fillings. She had a mat of dark hair, and an apron. She was in a complete contrast to Sarah with her long tresses of dyed golden locks and trim, warrior's body.

"Look at yea, just like the serpents apple!" The woman snarled. Judgment narrowed dark eyes that scanned her scarred but sleek form wrapped in shiny nylon underwear. "I told, daddy! Done told him, you's too pretty to be one of us. Some sort of devil woman." Sarah saw that the large hick had something in her hands, which glinted in the moonlight. She was backing up slowly, starting to point it at her, crazy filling the woman's eyes.

"You ain't my … AHH!"

Sarah flinched back as a hand punched through the wall. It was big and gauntleted. Its fingers wrapped around the woman's thick neck, in a tight vice grip. She let out a nearly unheard choked cry of fear as she was ripped through the wall and into the darkness. Now working quickly, Sarah began to bite at her restraints, looking back and forth between her work to the black hole in the wall. Inside was the vicious sound of cracking bones and ripping tendons that could be heard over muffled shrieks of pain, clouded by lingering drywall. Suddenly a silhouette appeared, stepping through its hole.

He was hooded, wearing a field jacket as black as night. It was casual the way this tall, barrel chest intruder walked toward Sarah. He looked around once or twice as the sound of gunfire died in the far distance. Sarah looked to the hole he made in the wall, and then to the other side to the broken window where the prospector was pulled through. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, at the sheer brutality in which her captors were dealt with. There was pure darkness and rage that was coming off the figure that approached her.

"_**So …"**_

He started out with the same booming gravelly voice that gave her Goosebumps. But suddenly, he began to cough violently for a moment. He put one finger up to her as if asking for a moment as he bent over. When he came back up, he cleared his throat. He seemed casual, reaching for her. Sarah moved away at his touch till she saw that he reached for her binding. He tugged hard on it and glared a moment. "Cute." He muttered in a normal voice. With a long sigh he sat at the edge of the bed. Sarah was still frightened of this merciless night predator, but she was confused by the light heartedness of his shadowed face as he looked her up and down.

"Soooo …. What'cha find?" There was a condensing lilt to his sarcastic voice, as he tilted his head at her. In her darkest dreams, in a void of nothing when all her memory disappeared, she'd still know and love that voice.

"John!"

Her dark avenger drew back his cowl and brought a face to light. A face of a grown man closer to her age with a handsome exterior carved of granite and covered in rugged stubble. He had thick locks of dark messily styled hair and matching emerald eyes. She was relieved, overwhelmed, and completely frightened of the son she thought she knew so well. She suddenly realized that between the booming demonic voice, and the fear inducing viciousness of his tactics, she had glimpsed the John who fought in the war.

The man reached out and touched her cheek in relief. His hands were cold, but that was nothing like the expression on his face as he hunted those who had kidnapped her. "Are you alright?" He asked bending down and burying his nose in her hair like he used too when he was so small. Even when she felt this man was some stranger, she automatically leaned her head into his face in a deep primal affection. No matter who he was at this moment, it wasn't in her to ever deny him her love.

She nodded. "Just get me out of here." She huffed, struggling anew to free herself.

John grunted as he took ahold an arm. "I hope you realize that we missed Indiana Jones night, to save you from this little Deliverance reenactment." He complained trying to gently untie her wrist.

The golden haired mother of destiny snarled. "I'm sorry my life and self-respect were more important, than your stupid Harrison Ford movies." She shot at him.

"You call him Doctor Jones, Doll!" He twisted the cable while leering at her lack of clothing, and then shook his head. "Ahh … they … didn't tell you squeal like a piggy did they?" He asked while struggling with the cable.

"Don't ask." Sarah clenched her teeth in pain.

"You … gonna tell me what the … hell you're doing all the way out here?" John was becoming increasingly frustrated as he showed his heritage by beginning to bit her restraints.

"I heard … that there was a theft of some top dollar cybernetics, from a lab up north. They … botched the robbery and dumped the machine in here." Sarah explained.

John gave a long draft. "I'm gonna need some wire-cutters." He got up and pushed the bed from the wall. She knew he was looking at the wire net that was binding her to the bed. He moved out of the way quickly and Sarah watched as a rat took off through the bedroom doorway.

"A rat … great." She groaned laying back down.

John grunted. "What are you complaining about? I used to eat those damn things." He muttered with disgust. "What lab was it?" He asked going back to the previous conversation.

"STAR labs in Alameda." She replied.

John stopped and gave her a double take. "You …" he seemed lost for words. "STAR … Mom STAR … STAR labs does special effects props for movies!" There was genuine disbelief. "They're making animatronic dinosaurs for the new Jurassic Park!" He yelled at her.

Sarah glared. "Jurassic what?"

CLICK

"You's get away from my wife!"

John whirled defensively, putting himself between the gun and a Sarah who wanted to bury her head in embarrassment. In the doorway a boy no older than twelve or thirteen was pointing a shotgun at John. He had a head of bright red hair cut into a mullet and pale skin. He wore a dirty pinstripe shirt, covered by overalls. John snorted at him and turned to Sarah.

"The day walker's got an imagination." The man tried not to mock his opponent. But the golden haired captive just settled back in her spot and turned away with a flush on her face.

John's smile fell. "N-o … are you?" He turned back to the kid and then back to Sarah. "You're kidding me!" He wasn't in a light mood anymore. "Daddy?" He threw a thumb over at the kid.

"They forced me too John!" Sarah barked in embarrassment.

"I'm'a gonna shoot ya!'

"Pipe down Chucky!" He rounded on Sarah. "This is great, mom … great. We drove all afternoon, spent most of the night in a hick town sheriff's office looking for clues and the other part interrogating one of your new in-laws. Do you know how much effort it takes to intimidate someone with so little teeth, in a forest?" He shook his head. "But thank god we came all this way for a Dinosaur and so you can get creepy with the red menace over here!" He yelled at her in frustration. "Why do I feel like the mom!"

Sarah looked enraged. "They held me at gun point till I married him! And where do you get off implying I'm not grown up?!" She turned it on him. "At least I'm doing something constructive. What are you doing, other than spending all day and night with a machine that should've taken a dip in a steel mill years ago!" She growled.

"You best start takin me serious, vermit!"

"I would Yosemite Sam, except for the fact that you can't shoot anyone with the safety! Now do you mind?!"

As the kid frowned, clearly never hearing the word in relation to guns. John came back at Sarah. "First of all, the war is over, and even if it wasn't, Skynet didn't use animatronic Dinosaurs to take over the world! Second, you call this constructive. You're tied to a hillbilly's bed in your bra and panties, a middle schooler's bed no less! You know, I'm almost tempted just to leave you here with Opie so the two of you can enjoy your wedding night watching Adventure Time!" He shouted at her.

"AH!"

A lithe figure appeared behind the boy. A female, imposing in a black carpenter's jumpsuit and a white hockey mask stripped the boy of his shotgun and lifted him effortlessly by the suspenders of his overalls. The kid was speechless, stuttering through his fear as he hung three feet off the floor. Sarah flinched at the appearance of a female take of the famous fictional serial killer. The hockey masked newcomer turned to John and threw him the shotgun.

"What's this?" An innocent voice was muffled by the mask.

John racked the shells out of the shotgun one at a time. "I'll tell you what it's not. A step-dad who's gonna bribe us with a pony." He replied flatly.

When the mask was removed, Cameron seemed amused. Her hair was pinned in a tight bun, her dark golden eyes stoic as ever. "Are we getting a Pony?" She looked from John to the boy. John just sighed.

"What are you wearing?" Sarah asked.

Cameron frowned at Sarah. "More than you." She tilted her head.

Feeling slapped in the face, Sarah turned visibly red when John spoke up. "She wanted to understand why people were afraid of Jason Voorhees so she dressed like him for an experiment … and the verdict?" he asked.

Cameron tightened her cheek. "It's probably the music." She told the boy still in her clutches as if he was an active member of the conversation.

"Cam, wire cutters." John requested with an outstretched hand. The girl reached into a large pocket and tossed it to him. "Go get her clothes." He motioned to Sarah, who was still harboring a glare for the girl.

There was something menacing in the killing machines eyes as she stared at the red head. "Do you know where Sarah's clothes are?" There was just amount of craze that the boy nodded compliantly. "Show me." She commanded. She put him down and let him lead her out of the room.

"Will you let me go after I show you?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"How much accessibility you have to small horses."

Sarah was nearly arching her back in anticipation as John began working on the wiring. With each metallic snip the resistance against her arms lessoned. There was such sweet relief when her arms fell to her side, no longer suspended above her head.

Gentle hands help her sit up. "Slowly." John said crouching in front of her.

It was as if they hadn't been fighting at all, prior to Cameron's entrance. From the moment she could, she threw herself into John, who held her tightly. She buried her nose into his neck and relished the feeling of being engulfed by her only purpose in life. The war John that she had seen earlier slowly went away in her possessive embrace and a boy she loved, that left that day in Zeira Corp. returned for an instant the tighter he held her. As he massaged her back, she realized that they hadn't interacted this closely in months.

When Cameron returned with her clothing, Sarah snatched the jeans and tank top from her unpleasantly. "What did you do with the boy?" She asked sternly. He might have been an ignorant product of paranoia, but he was still just a boy, a boy that probably just lost his whole family.

"I told him that I would hunt him down if he didn't foreswear you from your vows. Then he ran off." She walked toward the broken window, alertly keeping watch on the perimeter. John helped Sarah into her jeans, giving her somewhere to hold on as her legs regained feeling.

Suddenly there was a tremor that shook the house. John and Sarah exchanged looks, while Cameron glared, turning to the rest of her family. After a moment the house shook again, John steadied a wobbly Sarah, while Cameron strode to his side.

"What the hell was that?" Sarah asked, zipping up her jeans.

"I don't know" Cameron admitted. "We're too far north for this kind of seismic activity."

Both girls with looks of confusion turned to John who squinched his eyes shut. It would seem that if there was a soul who knew what on earth was going on it was John Connor. He gave a long disbelieving sigh as he faced Cameron.

"Where exactly did Gingivitis run too?" He asked while scratching the back of his head, eyes still closed.

"East."

"To the barn?"

"Yes."

"Did you clear the barn?"

"I thought you did."

"Ho-ly Shit!" John's eyes opened to panic.

"I don't understand." The cyborg wordlessly implored her best friend to explain.

He motioned to his mother. "Go on, tell her about why you're here!" He crouched quickly and began picking up each shotgun shell on the floor.

If this was supposed to make sense to Sarah, John was mistaken. "I … I was chasing some stolen tech from a botched robbery." She explained as the ground rumbled. "But when I got there, I was ambushed." She shrugged.

"Tell her where your machine parts came from." John began loading the shotgun feverishly.

"STAR Labs?"

The cyborg tilted her head. "STAR Labs specializes in animatronics for amusement parks and movie studios. Seven months ago they won a contract to build a fully remote controlled cybernetic Tyrannosaurus Rex for the new Jurassic Park movie." Cameron paused a moment to let the information synch. Her eyes widened after a moment.

"Oh …"

* * *

><p><span><strong>Author's Notes<strong>

**_Yeah, I've got the comedy itch again. Just checking if there's an audience for this story still._**


	7. Interlude: Crocodile Rock

**Crocodile Rock**

"_But the years went by and the rock just died  
>Suzie went and left us for some foreign guy<br>Long nights crying by the record machine  
>dreaming of my Chevy and my old blue jeans<br>But they'll never kill the thrills we've got  
>burning up to the Crocodile Rock<br>Learning fast as the weeks went past  
>we really thought the Crocodile Rock would last"<em>

"_Crocodile Rock" – Elton John_

* * *

><p>It was a rare night that had bathed over the remote home at the end of a rural road. Though isolated by woods and nature trails half carved out by hunters and hikers. There was usually some commotion that plagued the dark starlit evenings in the handsome two story home. Usually the disturbances were normal, painfully domestic in some instances. Always an argument of who was right about some unimportant fact, a whoop from a video game tournament, and trash talk of a spirited poker game every Friday night. There was even from time to time, less then troubling, but more than healthy explosions of wrestling that usually only happened between a mother and son that looked more like siblings. Though hardly violent, the rolling around on the carpet, and aggressive battle of dominance of toned limbs was usually the settlement of an argument that the usual victor was more than likely on the wrong side of in terms of facts or science.<p>

William Shakespeare had never and would never be the author of "The William Tell" in any reality. But as long as a beautiful warrior woman ended a shouting match with her child by wrestling him to the floor, demanding he say she is right while removing her shirt and threatening the pants, reality was less important. Might made right in the Connor household, and as long as it did Sarah Connor couldn't lose, even when she was wrong … which was usually the case.

But tonight was rare due to the unearthly silence that befell the sleeping house. Even on still nights the ambient chatter of John Connor and his cyborg companion in bed perforated the house comfortably. At all hours of the night a single innocent voice would break the churchly quiet to ask an inaudible question. When a powerful voice answered half agitated, and half asleep with its timber buzzing the upstairs walls quietly, it usually led to the white noise of two different voices committed to an hour conversation. The Q & A would always eventually end with a sleepy chuckle and the squeaks of a mattress were a young man's strong arms pulled the warmth of a svelte ballerina's body closer to return to sleep, while the cyborg placed her ear buds back in.

That was Derek Reese's nights now. Since the return of John and Cameron to the house, there hadn't been a night where he didn't hear the two of them from their room. The asshole in him could complain about it, but in honesty it didn't bother the former soldier at all. He had spent a good deal of his life sleeping in tunnels where there was more noise than a couple of morons in the same bed, acting like teenage girls at a sleep over. But in the end he preferred life over the constant silence. It was the voice of family, his family, and to have John under the same roof again brought the man a sense of peace and a grand satisfaction that he hadn't felt in so long. When he went to bed and heard them talking, he didn't have to hear the lonesome tomes of his own subconscious that found him alone in an empty home that he had thought he would be sharing.

This normal, however, was not the nights that Sarah Connor had ever been accustomed too. When Sarah had lived in this home, she had shared a bed with Derek. From the moment she wanted to be with him, she had never slept alone. Sarah Connor never went to bed without Derek Reese, even when Derek was not tired and she was. No matter how she had felt, Sarah would stay with him, or fall asleep next to him, waiting for the completion his task that kept him from their bed. Sometimes the two fell asleep curled up together on the couch. But that was when they were alone in the home when John and Cameron had moved out. Before that, when they had first returned from the future, Sarah had shared a room, a bed with John. It had been in transition while she worked out everything she had been feeling for Derek Reese in the sudden peace upon their lives.

It was those days being the reason that Sarah didn't want to sleep alone. She remembered the nights sitting up, waiting for John to come to bed while he and Cameron wasted the nights doing whatever they did while everyone slept. Her mind had always gone to dark places, and when she came downstairs she'd always find them with a deck of magic trick cards or playing chess. John didn't sleep at night, and when he did finally come to bed he'd just lay there. She remembered the many nights turning over and sneaking a peak at the familiar handsome stranger staring at the ceiling, a brooding nature carrying him miles away as he warmed the sheets. On the good nights and in the early days of their reunion, he'd watch her sleep caressing her as he did, or just watch her as she watched him. It was a mixture of sadness and longing for her when John held Sarah so close to him in those long hours before dawn. When her son had left, he had said he loved her, and when he returned she felt it in his arms. The comfortable nights when he held her like she was some great fragile treasure. In her mind she knew that John had lived through something so terrible that he retreated to Sarah night after night. Yet, she would be lying if she didn't admit she wished she could stay that way forever. Sarah Connor was human, and when someone loved you like that, especially Sarah, who spent much of her life convinced that no one ever would, it was addictive.

That was the way this night began.

After being saved by John and Cameron, they had brought Sarah back to the house till the morning. Though there was a guest bedroom, it wasn't furnished, and obviously Sarah Connor couldn't sleep with Derek any longer. Though seeing the last door down the hallway drew her toward it. Being barred from that bed, the soldier sleeping in there, it didn't feel right, it wasn't right. But Sarah had made her choice. So she had spent the night in John's room. She had expected resistance from him, their recent history filled with butting heads and hurt feelings, while his nights spent with Cameron together seemed important to both of them. Even now the pillow she laid her golden head on had the cyborg's distinctively sweet seductive smell. But surprisingly John relented only a moment. A switch had been flipped in him, seeing Sarah nearly turned to a hillbilly sex slave had made the man fiercely protective of his mother. From the moment she had stepped out of his and Cameron's shower and into the heavenly crisp and clean sheets of their bed, John had been there. She disappeared into his protective arms, holding her, guarding her every breath. She felt guilty about how safe she felt, and selfish of the warmth that snuggled to her. She was the protector not him. But she had drifted away all the same. In the final thoughts before sleep, a deep sorrow and a single tear staining Cameron's pillow reminded Sarah that this house she no longer lived in was her true home.

In the time the triad of Connors returned, to the time everyone went to bed, it was the little things that escaped all notice but to one about the lynch pin of the home. John Connor was looking out the window much more than usual. There was a long period in which he went quiet and when he looked at Sarah and Cameron there was suspicion in his eyes. Amongst all of the things that Cameron had noticed it was that John was clenching his fist more. He had residual aggression and a lasting darkness in his eyes. Inside he had touched the predator that helped him survive dusty battlefields and terrors hardly imaginable to those who didn't understand. He had taken up again this cold mantle to save his mother, but this dark specter hadn't left him.

Tonight there was something very wrong with John Connor.

In the dead of the dark hours of the new day Sarah shivered so hard that she awoke to the change of temperature. From the moment she had fallen asleep to the gentle chaste caresses of her long curling tresses, Sarah had been curled tightly to the warmth of her grown child behind her. But now that warmth was gone. She yawned sleepily, lazily reaching back for an arm to drape around her tightly, to return the added warmth that was missing.

"December 12th, 2029 … It's December, it's December … John, John Connor, First Lieutenant 132nd Cavalry."

A shaky and determined voice continued to repeat himself. The first thing the golden haired woman did was turn to find that she was alone under the covers. Her slender hand touched the indention left behind by the barrel chested man and felt the wetness where a bare upper body had begun to sweat. She could feel the dampness on the back of her thin tank top and the moister on the pale skin of her exposed lower back. In the corner of her eyes she saw something moving.

Sarah propped herself up on her elbows. "John?" She was frightened.

The tall man only several years her junior was pacing back and forth manically on Cameron and his rug. Emerald eyes the color of his scared mother was glassy and distant. His linebacker built upper body, covered in scars, was soaked in sweat, glistening in the dim starlight. His face was dampened as if he had gone for a run in the heat of the summer. Over and over again he repeated a date, his name, and ranking as if it was a totem to ward off some evil spirit.

Sarah called out to him. "John!" She had hoped the familiar sternness would catch his attention.

But to her voice he desperately shook his head. "Your mother is Sarah Connor … she's not here. She's not here." He said panicked.

"John Connor!" Sarah's voice was so hard it cracked. She had never seen him like this before. There had always been flashbacks to the war, but there was something different, tortured and manic about him this time.

"No!" He snapped at her. "You're not real … you're … not real." He put his hands over his ears as if to block Sarah's voice out.

The woman slipped out from underneath the covers, her bare legs shivering in the cold air filled with the stench of sweat. "John, John you're okay, It's me." She put a hand out to touch him. If she could just get her hands on him, she could let him feel her.

"Don't go near him."

Sarah was startled to see that Cameron had opened the door to the bedroom and was peering inside. It was however strange that the cyborg though animated stayed away from the doorway and out of John's vision. "Derek!" The girl called down the hall. Though Cameron remained passive, Sarah heard just the twinge of urgency in the way she called for the former soldier.

"What's happening to him?"

"You're not real … you're not real."

The teenage girl kept herself out of sight. "The fighting tonight, it triggered a trauma in John's subconscious. The adrenaline, plus the violence has fooled his brain into thinking that he's still in the future … and that all of this isn't real, a trap in the Psychofuge." She explained.

Even though the golden haired woman understood less than half of what Cameron had said, she could still detect just a note of bitterness in the way the cyborg addressed her. Almost as if all of this was Sarah's fault. That only made John's mother more defensive and irrational. She took several steps closer to her son.

"It's me, John … come to me." She reached out to him.

"Sarah, don't." Cameron warned.

John seemed to cower away from his mother. He pressed his wrists to his ears, shrinking back against the wall. "It's December, 2029 … Connor, 132nd cavalry." He began anew squeezing his eyes shut. "My mother is not here … she's not here." A tear drop fell from his eye. The sight of the tear, broke Sarah's heart and she wanted to shed one herself. She loved her child till it broke her and all she wanted to do was hold him, to love him the way that had once made everything better in their hard lives. The memories of their younger days only drew her toward him more.

The girl in the satin night slip frowned as the mother got closer to her child. "Sarah!" She called after her.

"Don't tell me how to take care of my boy!" She snapped at the cyborg. She wasn't about to let the machine who spent so much time with him as it was, now dictate how he should be cared for. She might be the most prominent part of John's life now, but she wasn't Sarah. Cameron was just a machine and she didn't know the power of the human touch, the touch of someone who truly loved him.

A slender milky hand reached out, threading through soaked locks of messy dark hair. Her gentle maternal touch glided down, cupping the handsome man's stubbled cheek. She quietly shushed him, leaning in and nipping her nose against his. It had been years since she had done that, but it was something that only she had ever done. She'd hope to bring a familiarity of a love that Sarah had very recently accused him of forgetting. John's eyes snapped open at the affectionate touch. They were enraged.

Strong as iron, a large hand shot out and grabbed Sarah's pale throat. It was followed by a thick muscular leg sweeping out Sarah's balance. A loud thump on cold wood upstairs shook the crystal of a dining room chandelier when Sarah was slammed down back first by her son, held down by the throat. It felt as if a mountain had fallen on her. Her reaction was to grab at John's forearm or wrist, but the tall broad man's grip was like metal machinery.

"You're not her!" He raged as if he was possessed. His eyes shown with a spark of desperation in a crazed state as he throttled who he thought was a human traitor.

"Hey!"

Derek had finally arrived, his t-shirt only half on. He and Cameron sprang into action grappling with John as Sarah began to turn a deep shade of red. Finally it was the cyborg who was able to pry John's death grip from his own mother's throat. Sarah gasped loudly, turning over and finding her knees, the side of her face buried into the rug.

Memory cards and CDs on John's desk clattered to the floor when Cameron fell backward against a wall, holding John in her immovable arms from behind. The man struggled against her as he lashed out to get at Sarah who was coughing violently into the floor being held sturdily by the former soldier she still loved.

When he knew Sarah was okay, Derek finally spoke. "I was afraid this was going to happen." His hazel eyes looked as if he could skin the lily white hide off of Sarah. While the tank top and panty clad woman rubbed her throat, she watched the man take a knee in front of his nephew who was fighting a losing battle against Cameron.

CRACK!

Sweat droplets flew into the cold air as the sound of wet skin being struck echoed through the room. Without warning, Derek Reese had slapped John hard enough to leave a red mark on his chiseled face. With the pain came a halting shock to John's confused and panicked stream of consciousness. His green eyes looked glazed but now on the cusp of sobriety. "Let him go." Derek ordered Cameron. The girl seemed almost reluctant to do so as she slipped out from under her best friend and moved off to the side.

Derek took the younger man by the back of the neck, holding him face to face. "This is real!" He said determinedly. "All of this, all of us, is real!" He continued. Though there was desperation in the soldier's voice, there was also compassion and a love only found in those with the same blood. "The year is 2011. You're in your house, the house you bought for me and you're mom. The war is over … You're not in the Psychofuge!" He shook John hard once. "He's dead, kid!" he reminded him. "The professor's dead, you killed him, remember?" He shook him.

John blinked. "I … I beat him." he repeated as if the haze was starting to lift. Derek's deep hazel eyes were like a lighthouse to the lost ship of John's mind that drew him away from the storm and rocks "I … I tricked him … Battle of wits." He was coming around slowly. Shakily, the handsome young man reached out and grabbed Derek by the back of the neck the same way as if asking for confirmation that he was real.

"You sent him to hell." His uncle did just that.

John looked winded and worn, almost like an old man after reliving the worst moments of his life. The younger man nodded and both soldiers released one another. Derek leaned back on his knee with a long sigh of relief. John bumped his head purposely on the bedroom wall with a deep breath. "Battle of wits … I won." John repeated. His eyes closed as he regained himself as one might after a terrible nightmare. Reese turned back to the cyborg waiting on the wings of the scene and nodded. He got up to his feet rubbing the back of his neck, retreating to attend Sarah. Meanwhile Cameron slipped to her knees to replace him.

Deep breaths rose and contracted from a large chest, while John kept his eyes closed. Sensing a new but familiar presence he slowly opened them. If there was a look that could be described for someone whose heart had stopped, it would fit John Connor's face when he saw Cameron. The sight of the beautiful girl roused him. "Cameron?" he asked cautiously. In sight of the cyborg, he seemed like a man in the middle of the desert. After so many mirages he only dared to hope that this oasis was real or forever surrender to the death that stalked him across a wasteland he had already escaped. Quietly he reached a shaky hand out toward her face. Seeing the emotions challenging his motor control, the cyborg took the large wandering hand and gently placed it against her smooth cheek. The contact of her cool skin on his hot and clammy palm made him sputter a sob when he finally came to grips of the reality he had temporarily checked out of. Without hesitation he pressed her to him, his arms enveloping her into a tight embrace as a drowning man would a lifesaver. There were no words of comfort, just a sympathetic frown to her face as he buried his in her hair. Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding tightly the large muscular frame that sobbed out every horror ever living within it since John Connor had left everything behind in search of her.

Every time John was faced with an episode and overcame it, he relived the worst moments of his life. And yet he always survived them time and time again so he could reunited with the cyborg he traveled through every circle of hell to find over and over again.

Eventually after several powerfully emotional minutes, John had gained control of himself. There were lines on his face, the stress aging him artificially. He looked almost barely conscious when he emerged from the crook of the teen's neck. The girl wiped away the tears on John's cheeks with both slender hands, framing his face with them. For a beat they shared a quiet gaze before John wearily placed his forehead against Cameron's.

"Get him a shot of whiskey." Derek advised to the two of them. "And if he tries to go out tomorrow, stop him." He sighed while rubbing his soul patch stressfully. The cyborg nodded. Finding her feet, she effortlessly took John with her. They looped his arm around her shoulder, slowly helping him shuffle out of their bedroom.

Seeing that John had returned back to the present, Sarah moved to assist in a maternal instinct that came primal to her. "I'll pour it." She called after the two of them. There was a cold menace in the way Cameron slowly turned her head. Sarah Connor was halted by the iciest of deadly looks she had ever seen a machine give.

"I don't need your help." She said bluntly. "You've done enough for one night." There was no emotion in her voice just liquid venom that had frozen and was lobbed at the golden haired mother like darts. The woman stood in offended shock as she watched the girl efficiently help John with an effortless finesse into the darkened hallway.

There was something deeply infuriating about the entitlement that the machine had to Sarah's son as they disappeared. Never before had she dreamed much less seen how deeply attached John had become to the cyborg till this very moment. A part of her felt angry, disturbed by the sight she saw. Sarah had wanted to view it as a sickness, an addiction. But she knew where that type of thinking got her. It was part of the reason that John wouldn't speak to his mother for weeks at a time. But mostly what hurt Sarah was not that John attacked her. But in the aftermath she didn't even seem to register to him. Somehow she lived in a world in which the touch of a machine meant more to her boy, than her own. Her touch, her love in his confused state only angered him as it did in reality. For the first time Sarah Connor was pondering if she had truly lost her boy.

"What the hell do you think you were trying to prove back there?"

When Sarah turned back, she came face to face with the same annoyed expression from Derek Reese that always pressed all of Sarah's buttons. There was something about the way Derek talked to her when he was mad or frustrated that never failed to make Sarah feel like she was the stupidest person on the planet. She met that condescension with an angry indifference and uncaring. Sarah Connor would do what she wanted when she wanted, no matter how stupid it was and regardless of how Derek Reese felt about it. It always ended in Sarah doing the dumb thing, usually with Derek right behind her, he'd be right, and she'd just get them out of it in the nick of time so that the circle could continue. But tonight there was something more than an annoyance to Derek. He was flat out angry with Sarah in a way that everyone was.

To all of it Sarah just stubbornly shook her head. "Don't start, Derek." She huffed, crossing her arms and looking away petulantly.

"You know better than going near him when he's like that." He lectured anyway. "He was confused and would attack anyone that wasn't a face he recognized from the future!" he reminded her with frustration.

"I know!" She snarled at him.

"You've put your and John's lives in danger, you're the reason he's lost himself tonight, and now you could've gotten your neck snapped tonight … And all for what, Sarah?!" He asked with beyond angry indignation.

Sarah knew and yet said nothing. "Go to hell!" She bared her teeth at the man. She didn't need to explain herself to him or to anyone. She had done what she thought was right. There was a chance of a new Cyberdyne that led her to the woods. She wanted to help John tonight, to stop him from hurting, and to love him the only way she knew how.

"Do you honestly think that this one-up game your trying to play with the metal is worth alienating John?" Derek Reese was never shy or pulled punches when it came to honesty. It was why he was the hardest man Sarah ever had to live with, and also why she loved him so very much.

Sarah rounded on the man. "Did you see what happened tonight?" She asked. "Look at them, Reese! She's got him wrapped around her finger! Doesn't that bother you?!" There was a hiss in Sarah's voice.

To her rant he just shook his head. There was a sudden sorrow that hadn't gone unnoticed. It seemed that they had gotten to a fundamental flaw in their own relationship. "Oh course it bothers me. But it's not my call anymore, if it ever was, Sarah." He shrugged.

"It's not right." She argued.

"He's his own man!" He countered. "He makes his own decisions." Derek growled. "And the metal makes him happy …" There was exasperation in his voice. "God help me, I don't know how, but she does. I'm not going to be the Son of a Bitch who ruins that, not after everything we've all been through." There was dogged determination that didn't shock Sarah. Both saw, but neither wanted to address the "we" that excluded the only one in the family who had never seen the horror of a battlefield or given a savage war cry before rushing into a hand to hand melee against incredible odds. Sensing the hurt inside Sarah, Derek just shook his head flustered and frustrated with all the things that plagued this family.

When he saw the vulnerability within green eyes, it usually drew him toward her. But tonight it just struck him with the fruitlessness of a life that no longer existed, a life she had rejected for the various reasons that fueled this argument. In one sentence she had highlighted the reasons that no one wanted her around anymore. "Ahhh …" He waved her off with a shake of his head moving to leave her alone in John and Cameron's room.

"Derek?"

"What?"

"What's a Psychofuge?"

The former officer stopped in the doorway. He bowed his head and cleared his throat, turning back to face Sarah. He was in the moment willing to tell her just what it was. To unearth all the horrors and pain that John had scabbed only for Sarah to pick away with her stupidly selfish decisions. But when he saw her he stopped. Her dyed golden hair was illuminated in the moonlight, her skin glimmering. Sarah Connor never wanted to be known as attractive, there were other things that were more important to her. Sometimes she did things to snuff her features, she had wanted to be taken seriously by the people she surrounded herself with. But in the light shimmering from John and Cameron's window, Derek Reese had never seen her look more beautiful. His mind leapt, as it often did in these moments, to Kyle. This was his Sarah Connor, not Derek's. His Sarah was the warrior, the protector, the woman who loved someone till she fell to pieces and would die for them. This woman wasn't that, this woman was who Kyle imagined her to be. In the moonlight she was an angel. The man thought of his brother and for the sake of the love he bared he just shook his head.

"I love you too much, Sarah."

It was his only answer to her question when he left the room.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Author's Notes<strong>

_A little more serious than usual with this story, but I think it's needed to understand exactly what the rift between Sarah and basically everyone who's not Charlie Dixon is. That being John and everyone have not moved on with their lives and Sarah is angry that they haven't. _

_Hypocrisy? Well it is Sarah. _

_This is also the first reveal at what John is dealing with and why he needs Cameron. I've hinted before that John is not alright, and might never be. _

_Yes, I know what the Psychofuge is and I know what happened between John and "The Professor" whoever he might be. It's not really important to the story, other than to be ambiguous battle of wits. But if you're interested I might give more in the future, but if not, it's served its purpose for this chapter._

_In terms of the metaphor of the song "Crocodile Rock" Suzy is Sarah not John. This being told through the prospective of John and Derek in which Sarah really had left them for a foreign guy, being that Charlie is an outsider to the family and the life they (and we as fans) have all become accustom to them living. _

_What you don't know is that the last chapter, this chapter, and the chapter that will eventually be coming down the line are all sections of one chapter that I had planned months ago. The problem is that much like last chapter, this one has been sitting in the archives for a while. But since I've had a lack of motivation to write all of the sections, rather than letting it get lost I'll just post it all one at a time as I write them. _

_Next chapter will be funny I promise. _


End file.
